


In the Dark

by holicannoli



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Universe, Clexa, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-12 23:43:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7953727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holicannoli/pseuds/holicannoli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa has been taken by the Ice Nation. Clarke's team is one of many looking for her. What will happen when they find her? Set post-3x07, but with Lexa, Titus and Lincoln still alive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Twelve days. Twelve days and twelve nights they have been looking for her, and Clarke is exhausted. She has not slept more than a few hours each night, choosing instead to keep her eyes on the road, scanning the woods, looking for anything out of the ordinary, anything that might offer a clue. In those twelve days they have searched so many villages, Clarke has lost count. Everyone they meet on the road they press for leads. If there's any hint that information is being withheld, guns are pulled and threats made. Yet so far, nothing. No clues, no sense they are getting closer, no evidence that she's even still alive. But giving up is not an option. As long as Kelan and Ontari haven't shown up in Polis with Lexa's dead body, Lexa may still be out there somewhere. Clarke has to believe she's still alive.

It's been a full month now since Clarke said goodbye to Lexa in Polis. For a brief moment she had contemplated staying behind in the capital. Lexa had asked her, and she had wanted to. When Titus had interrupted their conversation and Clarke had looked at Lexa one last time before leaving the room, she had realized just how much she did want to stay. Stay with her. Stay with Lexa. But then she had talked to Octavia and when she found herself asking whether it wasn't possible for her to do more for her people by just staying in Polis, Clarke could hear in the tone of her own voice that not even she believed that. Her people needed her back home. She needed to make them see that Pike would bring a war upon them they could not win. Her people needed her and her people needed to come first. But still Clarke had felt torn. She had thought there would be more time. She had thought she need more time. More time to heal, more time to learn to trust again, more time to see whether she and Lexa could rebuild the bond they had shared before. But then Pike had slaughtered Lexa's army sent to protect Arkadia and dispatched a mission to obliterate a whole grounder village. Lexa had been forced into a corner. And all of a sudden saying goodbye had become inevitable.

Having to say goodbye had made all the time Clarke had spent being so angry with Lexa that she refused to see her suddenly seem like wasted time. But finding herself in Polis after those months in the wilderness had been excruciating. Being face to face with Lexa again so unexpectedly after all that time had made all the guilt, anger and self-loathing she had been running away from come crashing down on her. And the worst part was that deep down inside Clarke knew that Lexa had made the only sensible decision she could have. Their plan had failed. Mount Weather had moved the grounders from the harvest chamber to the front entrance. With the plan they had, getting their people out had become impossible. So Lexa took the deal. She saved her people. It had been the right thing to do. But Clarke desperately needed her to be wrong. Clarke needed Lexa to have done what she did not _for_ her people but _against_ Clarke. Only then could Clarke's anger and hatred feel justified. How could you hate somehow who made the only choice she had and in the process saved hundreds of her people? But Clarke had hated her and had needed Lexa's choice to have been one of cowardice and dishonor. And there had been moments when Clarke had hated Lexa all the more for not even granting her the perverse pleasure of justified outrage. And she knew it was irrational and she knew she had to let go of those feelings, but the fury and the hatred had been too strong, and for a while they had seemed the only things that kept her going.

For it had not only been a political alliance. She and Lexa had planned this war together. They had supported each other and come to rely on each other. And Lexa had turned around and walked away. Clarke had felt so betrayed and abandoned. The moment had haunted her: Lexa turning her back on her and walking away. And Clarke had slowly come to realize that the depth of her hatred and anger had everything to do with how she had felt about this girl. This girl who had kissed her so tenderly and then backed off when Clarke told her she wasn't ready. This girl who had, afterwards, simply continued to show Clarke that she cared for her without ever seeming to expect anything in return. And as the days went by and as they planned their war together, Clarke had found herself falling for her. For the commander who was smart and ruthless and strong and for the girl underneath the armor and war paint who was vulnerable and yet so loving and resilient. So it hadn't just been the commander of the grounders who had turned around and walked away. It had been Lexa. Her Lexa.

And so finding herself in Lexa's presence again had been hard. She had wanted to hurt her like she had felt hurt by her. She had spit in her face and put a knife to her throat. And the amazing thing was that Lexa had simply let her. Clarke had spit in her face, and Lexa had not even lifted a finger. Clarke had put a knife to Lexa's throat and although Clarke knew Lexa could've had her on the floor in less than a second, Lexa had simply stood there. She had stood there and given the decision over her life and death to Clarke. And looking into her eyes in that moment, Clarke had realized she wasn't the only one who had been hurt by Lexa's betrayal. Lexa had been hurt too. Choosing her head over her heart had cost her too. And it was in that moment that a small ray of sunshine had had cracked open the darkness in which Clarke had been shrouded for so long. And when Lexa had apologized, her big eyes so sad and loving, Clarke had known that despite everything, Lexa still cared for her.

But if putting a knife to Lexa's throat had allowed Clarke to see how much Lexa still cared, it had also shown Lexa how profoundly betrayed Clarke had felt by her actions at Mount Weather. And Lexa had simply accepted that. She had set Clarke free, not forcing her to stay in Polis, her city, her tower, any longer. But Clarke had chosen to stay and she could tell it had made Lexa happy. Still, from then on, Lexa had done all she could to be respectful of Clarke's need for space. She had given Clarke time to come to terms with what had happened. She had allowed Clarke to decide for herself whether and how she would move forward, how they would move forward. But she had also, in the most breathtaking way imaginable, shown Clarke that she would never put herself in a position again where she'd be forced to choose between Clarke and her own people. She had bowed down to Clarke and made Clarke's people her people, Clarke's needs her needs. And Clarke had simply stared at her, completely filled with awe and overwhelmed by the significance of Lexa's gesture. Then Clarke had offered Lexa her hand, and when Lexa took it, Clarke had felt her heart flutter. Lexa had gotten up and for a moment they had simply looked at each other. And Clarke had thought, How amazing that a few words can offer such reassurance and comfort and a simple touch such exhilaration.

And little by little, Clarke had found herself enjoying the time she spent with Lexa again. The anger and hurt no longer made it painful to be in her presence. She even found herself feeling at peace with Lexa in a way she didn't with other people, not even her mother or close friends in Arkadia. And watching Lexa as heda in Polis had been captivating. Lexa accepted her role, the burdens and the loneliness that came with it, with such grace. And Clarke realized once again what a tremendous leader she was. She was ruthless when she needed to be, made the hard decisions when that was what the situation required. But underneath it all was such a love for her people, such a strong desire to create better lives for them. And she was smart; she understood the other clans, their leaders and their ambassadors, like no one else Clarke encountered in Polis. And being in Polis made Clarke understand all the more how remarkable the coalition was that Lexa had managed to forge and how central Lexa was to the fate, and success, of that coalition.

And before she knew it, Clarke was spending more and more time with the commander, missed her when she was away, and found herself worrying about her safety. But then Pike had been elected chancellor and terrible decisions had been made, and Clarke had been forced to go back to Arkadia. And she had thought she needed more time. She had thought she was only just beginning to find her way back to Lexa. But when she had walked into Lexa's bedroom to say goodbye and caught sight of her, Clarke knew in that moment that she had already, deeply and irreversibly, fallen in love with the commander. It was done. In the month that had passed since then, Clarke had often thought back on the way Lexa had looked in that moment. Clarke had never seen anything so beautiful in her life. Clarke would remember the sunlight dancing on Lexa's hair, the way in which time had seemed to stand still. There had been such a softness to Lexa in that moment. A softness and vulnerability Clarke knew most people never got to see. It was always a stunning sight. The first time Lexa had allowed Clarke to see the young, vulnerable girl behind the heda mask, it had completely floored her. Clarke had felt so touched and special. And it had created in her an emotion she had not felt towards the commander before: she had felt protective of her, a deep desire to keep her safe.

And as soon as Lexa saw Clarke in her bedroom, she had understood Clarke was leaving. There had been such a sadness to her eyes. Clarke had moved closer to her and apologized for leaving. She had wanted Lexa to understand that she did not want to leave her. That leaving made her sad too. And she could tell Lexa was trying so hard to be strong, to not make this moment more difficult for Clarke. It had been heart-breaking to see her like that. And then all of a sudden even their goodbyes were over and Lexa had uttered the same words she had uttered on the mountain: "May we meet again." And a wave of panic had washed over Clarke as two realizations hit her all at once: the first one was that there was absolutely no guarantee they'd ever meet again, especially now that "blood must not have blood" put the commander in even more danger than she normally already was. And the second one was that she loved this girl. She completely and utterly loved this girl.

And without really thinking about what she was doing, Clarke had grabbed hold of Lexa's neck and kissed her. Feeling Lexa's lips on her own had seemed to make the world disappear from around them. It had felt so good. Then Clarke had slowly opened her eyes and seen a tear fall down Lexa's cheek. And Clarke had understood in that moment how much Lexa had longed for this, how much Lexa loved her, and how Lexa had not allowed herself to believe, until now, that Clarke would ever feel the same. And a wave of love and longing had washed over Clarke. And realizing that even now Lexa was holding back to allow Clarke to decide for herself whether this was really what she wanted, Clarke had leaned in again and shown her that yes, yes, this was absolutely what she wanted. She had kissed her again and again and again. And when merely kissing Lexa was no longer enough, Clarke had guided her to the bed. As Lexa sat down she had looked up at Clarke in a way no one had ever looked at her before. Clarke had been so moved. She'd never felt so loved and desired as in that moment.

They had let themselves fall down onto the bed and it had been amazing to feel Lexa's warm body beneath her own, no more empty space separating their bodies. As they continued to kiss, Clarke had slid her hands underneath Lexa's top and placed them on her ribs. She had felt Lexa tremble beneath her fingertips, and it had filled her with such desire. Clarke had deepened her kisses, seeking Lexa's tongue with her own. And when their tongues finally touched, it was as if Lexa had simply been waiting for Clarke's permission to give herself to Clarke completely, body and soul. Their kisses had become even more passionate as their tongues crashed into each other over and over again. It had been utterly intoxicating kissing Lexa like that. Slowly, Clarke had undressed both Lexa and herself. When she was done, Lexa had looked at her with her big dark eyes and had slowly taken off her headpiece, carefully placing it beneath a pillow. And Clarke had understood that Lexa was telling her that for this brief moment in time, Lexa was all hers. She did not belong to Trikru, was no longer commander of the coalition. She was only and wholly Clarke's. And they'd made love and it had been gentle and raw, overwhelming and comforting all at once. Afterwards, when the cold air had made them both shiver, they had crawled beneath the sheets and simply lain there for a while. Clarke had felt so in love and at peace with the world. And then they had made love again until Clarke really could stay no longer. She had quickly gotten dressed while Lexa watched her from the bed. Then Clarke had walked over to where Lexa was lying. She had bent down and kissed her one last time, softly and gently, allowing her lips to linger for a moment. Then she'd turned around and, without looking back, left the room.

Back in Arkadia, Clarke had felt out of her element. She had missed Lexa, had longed for her touch. But there was much to distract her. She had spent her first days taking stock of the mood in Arkadia, figuring out who was with Pike and who wasn't. More importantly, she tried to figure out who supported him but might be willing to listen to her. She had tried to keep a low profile, knowing that Pike would not hesitate to lock her up if she caused too much trouble. Pike had been distrustful but had not gotten in her way. And slowly Clarke had been able to make some progress. The blockade had been a good reminder that there were limits to what the Sky People could do, to the power they had. More and more people came to question the wisdom of treating all the grounders the same and rejecting outright any possibility of peaceful cohabitation. And to Clarke's great relief, she had found Bellamy more and more willing to accept that the slaughter of Lexa's army had been politically harmful and morally wrong. And so, even though they were miles apart, Clarke had felt that she and Lexa were still working together towards a common goal, a shared future. And that had made being apart easier to bear.

But then, just as things were starting to look up and Clarke was feeling more and more hopeful that her people would oust Pike from power, reports had reached Arkadia of trouble amongst the Ice Nation. It appeared that Roan had not received the warm welcome he had hoped for upon his return to his people. While he was still in Polis, news had reached his people back home that their attempt to take over the coalition had failed and that their queen was dead. Then more reports had come informing the Ice Nation people that it was Prince Roan who had lost his solo gunplei against the commander and that he had subsequently bowed to her and subjected Azgeda to her rule again. And the people of Azgeda had felt ashamed and angry and had in their anger and shame tried to make sense of Roan's part in all of this. And soon two different interpretations of his role emerged, neither of them favorable to the new king. There were those who firmly believed that Roan must have made a pact with Lexa to get rid of his mother and assume leadership of Azgeda. Not only was his loss therefore an act of treason, it also showed that Roan had placed his own ambitions above those of Azgeda, an unforgivable crime amongst the Ice Nation. Then there were those, larger in number, who insisted the fight had not been rigged and that Roan had simply lost. But this interpretation did not do Roan any favors either. For it meant Azgeda was now led by a man who had lost his solo gunplei and had thereby proved Azgeda to be no match for Trikru. And for a nation with a strong sense of superiority and entitlement over all other grounder clans, such an outcome was just as difficult to swallow. And so Roan had found himself met with little enthusiasm and a great deal of outright hostility upon his return.

To make matters worse, as Roan was making his way back to his people, his uncle Kelan had started to make the case that his nephew wasn't fit to be king and that he himself, Nia's younger brother, should assume the royal title instead. As their king, Kelan promised, he would not rest until Azgeda ruled over all the other clans, as was their birthright as the most powerful clan. While there were many who backed Kelan, just as many worried that Kelan would not receive the support from the other grounder clans as Nia had. For one, although he saw himself as much more deserving of the royal title than Roan, the simple fact remained that he wasn't the rightful king. The leaders of the other clans would be reluctant to make a pact with him, lest it undermine the legitimacy of their own rules. Secondly, Lexa's defeat of Roan had done much to relegitimize her rule and restore faith in her capabilities, and the other clans were unlikely to throw their weight behind another coup attempt so soon after the previous one had failed. But perhaps most importantly, Kelan was no Nia. While the other clans had trusted Nia to allow them a certain degree of self-governance after she took charge of the coalition, they did not trust Kelan to do the same. Kelan's reputation as a petty, self-important, vicious man who was only interested in his own gain also worried his own people. While no one would deny that their queen had been ruthless, Nia had also been fair and had always put the needs of her clan first. No one trusted Kelan to do the same, and it was generally assumed he'd be a despotic, tyrannical ruler. Therefore, many Ice Nation people, even those who felt Azgeda should in fact be in charge of the coalition, felt that it might be better to bide their time with Roan. And so, understanding the fragility of his position, Roan had worked tirelessly to convince his people of the fact that becoming embroiled in an all-out war against Lexa and the other clans would be disastrous for Azgeda. It was a war they were unlikely to win. Roan explained to his people he was not asking them to give up their ambition to rule all the clans from Polis, an ambition he shared, now was just not the time. And soon reports started to reach Arkadia that Kelan's influence was dwindling, and everyone, including Clarke, started to breathe a bit more easily.

But then, just as Clarke started to think that yes, perhaps everything will somehow work out, a Trikru messenger had arrived at the gates of Arkadia, demanding to speak with Clarke. Pike had refused to let the man in, so Clarke had gone outside to meet him. The messenger had dismounted and as he started speaking, Clarke had felt as if she had the air knocked out of her. The commander, the messenger informed her, had been travelling around Trikru land to explain to her people the rationale behind "blood must not have blood" and in an attempt to win their support. She had travelled with a larger force than usual, mindful of the still delicate political situation amongst the Ice Nation. Everything had been going well, with Lexa making some headway, when all of a sudden a village elder had arrived in Polis, bringing reports that Lexa's entire force had been found slaughtered near his village. Not a single person had survived. The commander, however, had not been amongst the slain. The surrounding areas had been searched, but the commander had not been found. A crisis meeting had immediately been convened in Polis. All the clans had been present.

A consensus had quickly been reached that it was most likely Kelan who had taken the commander. Lexa's abduction was likely the first step of a larger plan to transfer the spirit of the commander to Ontari and have the Ice Nation under Kelan's rule take charge of the coalition. All the clans had expressed their abhorrence and shock at the abduction of a reigning heda on her own lands. But Kelan's brazen act had also inspired fear. The other clans realized that if Kelan was successful in having Ontari ascend, they would soon have an Ice Nation heda and an Ice Nation overlord. And while these clans continued to express their support for King Roan and Lexa's coalition, they were also reluctant to make an enemy of Kelan. Trikru had immediately sent out a great number of search parties to look for their commander. The other clans had promised to do the same, but whether they would actually do so, the messenger said, remained uncertain.

The only thing now standing in Kelan's way was the secret of how the spirit of the commander was passed on to a new nightblood. It was also the only thing that offered any hope that Lexa might still be alive. As soon as Titus had heard the news, the messenger had told Clarke, the flamekeeper had gone into hiding. He knew that if Azgeda got hold of him, all would be over. They would find a way to torture him to get the information out of him. Or, even more likely, they would find a way to torture Lexa until Titus could take it no more. So Titus had fled Polis. No one had any doubt that Kelan had already put an enormous bounty on Titus's head. Hundreds of Azgeda men and women were probably already looking for him. But for now Titus was gone and Lexa was all Kelan had. She was the only one who might be able to tell him the secret of the spirit of the commander.

Clarke had nodded as the Trikru messenger finished his account. "So you think she's still alive?" she had asked hesitatingly.

"It depends on how confident Kelan is he'll find the flamekeeper. But yes, we think it's likely he's keeping her alive for now to try to extract the secret of the flame from her."

Clarke had heard Lexa's voice inside her head: "Her name was Costia. She was captured by the Ice Nation whose queen believed she knew my secrets. Because she was mine. They tortured her, killed her …." Clarke had pushed the memory away.

The messenger had added, "I've come to ask Skaikru to help search for the commander."

"Of course," Clarke had said at once. "We'll help in any way we can.

The man had nodded and taken his leave.

Clarke had walked back inside in a daze. She had gone straight to Pike, explaining the danger their people were in if the commander was not found, demanding Pike make available as many teams as possible. Pike had flat out refused, telling Clarke that if the Ice Nation were going to take over the coalition and attack, they needed Arkadia to be prepared. He needed his people to stay where they were. After much coaxing Pike had finally agreed to allow Clarke to assemble a small team, five people at the most, and he had given her permission to take the rover. Clarke had found Bellamy, Miller, Lincoln, and Octavia willing to come with her, and after quickly loading the rover with some supplies, they had set out.

And so for twelve days they had driven around day and night and there had been no sign of Lexa anywhere. Clarke's team had occasionally run into Trikru search parties and it was always the same: some potential leads here and there but ultimately nothing. No one seemed to have any idea of where Lexa might have been taken. No one seemed to know whether she was dead or alive. So Clarke clung onto the fact that Kelan and Ontari had not yet shown up in Polis. There was still hope.

Three days ago the Skaikru team had moved into Sector 8, Ice Nation territory. Roan, knowing his own fate depended on Lexa being found, had sent out search parties of his own and had allowed any and all Trikru and Skaikru teams to search his lands and villages. Many of the Ice Nation villages Clarke and her team had questioned had expressed support for Roan and had seemed cooperative, but Clarke had found it difficult to determine whether this support and cooperation was genuine or whether it was just to throw them off. So after two days they had moved out of Sector 8 again and into Sector 7, leaving it to Roan's search parties to question their own people and determine whether their answers could be trusted or not.

And now, in the late afternoon, some miles from the Azgeda border, they had found themselves observing a party of fourteen Ice Nation warriors in the glade of a wood, resting in front of a big rock formation. It was particularly their number that had drawn the attention of Clarke's team. Most Azgeda search parties they had come across had consisted of at most five people. The same was true for the occasional Azgeda hunting party they'd encountered. So this group was definitely out of the ordinary, and anything out of the ordinary was worth checking out. Bellamy had parked the rover some distance away, and the five members of Clarke's team had made their way to some rocks that gave them cover while they tried to make sense of what these Ice Nation warriors might be up to.

Clarke looks at Lincoln and nods. Slowly, Lincoln steps away from the rock behind which they've been hiding and starts walking towards the Ice Nation men who are still some fifty yards away. Clarke, Miller, Octavia, and Bellamy follow a few yards behind him. When Lincoln is within hearing distance, he addresses the Ice Nation men in Trigedasleng. He tells them they have come in peace and are looking for the commander.

He inquires whether they are looking for her too. For a second, the men simply stare at them. Then, all of a sudden, before Clarke and her team know what's hit them, the entire Azgeda group has jumped to their feet, drawn their swords, and comes charging at them at full speed. Clarke, Bellamy, and Miller quickly draw their guns and start shooting. But there are too many of them and they're running too fast. Lincoln and Octavia draw their swords as the other three keep shooting. Soon Clarke sees the first sword coming towards her head. While she ducks, she sees Octavia jumping in from behind her, plunging her own sword deep into the Azgeda warrior's chest. When Clarke looks up again she sees Bellamy wrestling one of the Ice Nation men to the ground, putting a bullet into his head, while Lincoln draws his swords out of the abdomen of another warrior. Clarke then sees Miller being thrown to the ground, and as the Ice Nation warrior standing above him is about to bring down his sword, Clarke quickly points her gun and fires. As the man collapses onto the ground next to Miller, Miller looks up and gives Clarke a grateful nod. And as suddenly as the fight started, it is over.

The five stand in the middle of the dead bodies and look at each other with eyes all saying the same thing: What just happened here? But that thought is immediately followed by: Could it be true? Could she be here? But looking around, Clarke can't figure out where "here" could possibly be. There's nothing but trees and rocks and more trees and more rocks. Where could they've put her? Clarke looks up at the trees. Then she looks around again, scanning the woods for any movement. She hears Lincoln say, "Let's take a look around," and soon Miller, Octavia, and Lincoln have all taken off in different directions. Clarke, starting to feel antsy, casts another glance at the spot where the Azgeda men had been sitting. There is nothing there but an open spot amongst the trees with behind it a rock formation overgrown with brambles and bushes. Lexa, she thinks, where are you?

And then all of a sudden Clarke sees it: the face of one of the rocks is of a much darker color than the rest. Clarke runs up to the rock and starts moving branches and twigs that cover that part of the rock to the side. They give way so easily, Clarke looks down and realizes the shrubs and bushes don't have any roots in the earth. They have been put here by people. Frantically, she starts throwing all the branches and twigs away from the rock until she has uncovered a small opening in the rock face. Clarke turns around and catches Bellamy's eye. "Be careful," he says.

Clarke takes a deep breath and steps into what appears to be the entrance to a cave. The passageway is narrow and low. Clarke has to duck to avoid banging her head. She takes some careful steps forward. Barely has she taken five full steps, or she hits a wall. Clarke puts out her hands. Solid rock. Then she glances to the left and realizes that the tiny passageway continues in that direction. Clarke follows the tunnel deeper and deeper into the cave with Bellamy close behind her. As she continues to walk, it becomes increasingly difficult to see properly. Very little daylight makes it this far into the cave. After another few steps, Clarke finds herself enveloped in darkness.

"You still here?" she asks.

"Yes," Bellamy answers.

Clarke puts her hands on the walls to either side of her to help keep her balance and continues to walk. After another few yards the wall on her right-hand side gives way to a void. Clarke extends her arms forward. Another wall. "Bellamy?" she says.

"Yeah?"

"This passageway ends here but I think there's a cave to my right."

"How big is it?"

"Dunno. Hard to tell."

Clarke takes a step into the chamber. The air is moist and cold and Clarke can hear clear dripping sounds. Quietly she forces herself to say, "Lexa?"

Nothing. Nothing comes back to her but the sound of her own voice echoing off the wall. The echo tells her the cave must be sizeable.

Clarke turns to Bellamy. "A flashlight," she says. "We need a flashlight."

She hears Bellamy turn around and retrace their steps. When she no longer hears his footsteps, Clarke takes a deep breath in. "Lexa?" she tries again, adding, a bit more loudly, "Are you here?"

No response.

Clarke closes her eyes for a moment, trying to see whether that will allow them to adjust to the dark more quickly. But when she opens them again, the darkness is still as complete as it had been before. There is nothing she can do now but wait for Bellamy to return with the flashlight.

After what feels like ages, Clarke hears Bellamy's footsteps again in the distance as they reverberate through the cave's tunnels. As the sound moves closer, Clarke also starts to make out a light.

"Hurry," she says.

Bellamy picks up some speed and moves into the chamber. Slowly he moves the light from one cave wall to the next and then again on to the next. Definitely big. Big enough to easily fit a hundred men into. Bellamy points the light up to the ceiling to see how high it is. As he does so, two bats suddenly fly past Bellamy and Clarke, making awful shrieking noises. Clarke can feel her heart beat in her throat. She takes a deep breath to steady herself. The ceiling is not very high at all, and Clarke can't shake the feeling that the whole cave must be man-made. Bellamy points the flashlight down and starts scanning the cave floor. It seems completely empty. But then, all of sudden, something seems to reflect the dim light emanating from the torch in the far left-hand corner of the cave. "Did you see that?" Clarke asks.

Both she and Bellamy take a step closer. Metal? Is that the shine of metal? Clarke takes another step closer and then there's no longer any doubt about it. Those are long metal chains, lying on the cave floor. Bellamy shines the light to the left. The chains seem to be attached to the cave wall, a few inches above the ground. Shining the light back to the right, Clarke realizes with a start that there's a dark shape on the floor where the chains end a few yards from the cave wall. And when the light settles on the figure, Clarke simply knows. There's no doubt about it. It's unmistakably a human body, curled up on the cave floor in a fetal position, facing the wall.

"Lexa!" Clarke runs towards it and lets herself fall onto her knees. She extends her arms and puts her hands on the body. A shiver runs down Clarke's spine. The body is completely damp and cold. So cold. With a shock, Clarke takes her hands off the body again. She looks down at the ground and realizes she's kneeling in a pool of dirty water. Her knees are already soaked. Then she looks at the body again. There are chains around the wrists, ankles, and neck. The face is covered with strands of dark, wet, dirty hair. Slowly Clarke moves the hair to the side. Clarke swallows hard. A lone tear appears in the corner of her eye. Lexa. Her beautiful, precious Lexa. Completely battered and bruised and broken. Her gaunt face is covered in dried black blood. Big bruises under her eye and on her cheek seem to have been inflicted some while ago for they have started to lose their dark color and have turned an odd combination of green and yellow. Her lips are badly chipped, and her cheekbones protrude so much, Clarke is convinced she must've lost at least thirty pounds since she last saw her. Clarke looks up at Bellamy with desperation in her eyes. It does not look like Lexa is present in this cold, demolished, humiliated body. Slowly, Clarke lifts up the linked chain around Lexa's neck and places two fingers where she knows the carotid artery must be. And at once she feels it. A pulse. It's weak but it's there. She looks up at Bellamy and with an unsteady voice whispers, "She's alive."


	2. Chapter 2

For a moment Clarke and Bellamy merely stare at each other, all of a sudden uncertain what to do.

"Maybe we should put her on her back and check for injuries first?" Bellamy proposes.

Clarke looks down at Lexa's broken body. Seeing the big linked chain around the commander's neck and the already bruised skin underneath, Clarke shakes her head. "If we put her on her back, the pressure of that thing …."

She swallows hard. Understanding what she's trying to say, Bellamy nods in agreement. Clarke lets her eyes go from the chain around Lexa's neck to the hook in the wall to which the chain has been attached. "We need to get her out of here, Bellamy," she whispers with desperation in her voice.

Bellamy nods solemnly. "I'll go see whether there's anything in the rover to cut these chains with," he says before rushing off, taking the flashlight with him.

Left alone in the dark, Clarke is suddenly overcome with a feeling of helplessness and terror. What if she can't save her? What if too much damage has been done to this body that was once so strong and agile, capable of defeating someone as strong as Roan? Clarke's still sitting on her knees, shivering in the cave's cold air. She extends her arms slightly, searching for Lexa's broken body. She feels an arm and a shoulder, both still so damp and cold. Then she slowly moves her right hand to the top of Lexa's head and starts stroking her wet hair. "You'll be alright," she whispers quietly over and over again, more for her own benefit than for that of Lexa whose spirit seems so very far away to her.

When Bellamy finally returns after what feels like ages, he's not alone. With the flashlight firmly pointed at Lexa again, it takes Clarke a second to realize it's Lincoln. She's grateful Lincoln's face is covered in darkness so she's spared his reaction to seeing his heda chained to a wall like some rabid animal. Now that the light from Bellamy's flashlight makes it possible for Clarke to see the frail body in front of her again, Clarke finds herself unable to stop staring at it. They actually found her. They found Lexa and she's alive.

Looking her over, Clarke realizes the commander's shoulder guard, outer jacket, and boots have all been removed, leaving her barefoot in just her pants and black top. Clarke also notices for the first time that Lexa's shirt is ripped in long stripes all along her back. Through one of the larger cuts she sees that the skin underneath has been torn open. There's dried blood all around it. Clarke hears Bellamy say, "We don't have anything strong enough to cut these chains with. But Lincoln says he can cut them with his sword." Clarke looks up at Lincoln. Thank God for this man, she thinks. And then Lincoln steps in and takes over and for a few moments Clarke doesn't have to make any decisions and she's grateful for that. Lincoln tells her he needs her to keep the chains taut. They'll start with the chain around the commander's ankles.

Clarke moves around Lexa's body and squats down next to Lexa's feet. As she looks at Lexa's ankles, she's hit with a wave of nausea. The chains around Lexa's ankles are made of a solid metal plates, each about an inch wide, and several very nasty-looking burn marks show that the ends of the round plates have been welded together while already around Lexa's ankles. At the place where the metal bands were welded together, a metal ring has also been attached. It is to this ring that the larger linked chains have been fastened. Clarke stares at the burnt skin. She realizes the metal plates have also cut deep into Lexa's already burnt skin, with some of the skin now badly infected. Clarke feels like she wants to throw up. It takes her a second to realize Lincoln has spoken. She looks up at him, trying to shake off the overwhelming nausea.

"Ready?" Lincoln asks again.

Clarke nods. She picks up the chain several inches from Lexa's feet and pulls it towards her away from the wall. When the sword comes down, Clarke averts her face. When the big crash that reverberates throughout the entire cave has subsided, Clarke looks down at the chain. She pulls at it again. Still in one piece.

"Again," she says. She pulls the chain taut, and Lincoln's sword comes crashing down again. Clarke almost falls over backwards onto Lexa's feet, momentarily having lost her balance when Lincoln successfully cut the chain. She steadies herself, gives Lincoln a quick nod, and crawls over to where Lexa's hands are lying on the cave floor. Those beautiful long hands. Those perfect, elegant fingers. For a few moments the memories come flooding back of Lexa's hands all over Clarke's body, of Lexa's injured hand in hers after Lexa's fight with Roan. Clarke closes her eyes, trying to force the memories from her mind. Then Clarke's look down again at the hands that are lying in the dirty water, with fingers that in some cases clearly look broken. The chains that the Ice Nation have welded together around Lexa's wrists are of the same kind as those that were welded shut around her ankles. Clarke looks at the burn marks. There would've been at least another ten ways in which Kelan could've tied up Lexa and chained her to the wall. And this is how he chooses to do it ….

Clarke quickly picks up the linked chain that's attached to Lexa's wrists and pulls it towards her, bracing herself this time to make sure she won't fall over. She looks up at Lincoln and nods. Lincoln raises the sword above his head and lets it come down with full force. Sparks fly off the chain and the cave floor. "Well done," Clarke says as she looks at the severed chain. Only one more to go. Clarke moves up to Lexa's head. Having moved between Lexa and the wall, Clarke is now for the first time able to get a good look at Lexa's face. Clarke grimaces and swallows hard. There are bruises and blood everywhere. Her lower lip is cracked in one corner. For a moment a fury threatens to overtake Clarke. How dare they have done this to her? How dare they torture her and keep her chained up like an animal? Lexa would never give up the secret of the spirit of the commander. Kelan must've known that. And to still put her through this. To torture her like this …. Clarke takes a deep breath to try to calm herself.

Remembering the sparks that flew when the second chain was cut, Clarke puts one hand in front of Lexa's face to protect it while pulling the chain tight with the other. Again, Lincoln raises his sword and lets it fall. It comes down with such force that Clarke half expects Lexa to open her eyes or jolt back. But she remains perfectly still. After the final chain has been cut, Lincoln puts away his sword. Clarke looks down at the three severed chains. Then she looks at Lexa, still in the same fetal position, still in chains, still battered and bruised and cold and wet, but no longer attached to the wall, and for now that's everything.

Lincoln kneels down on the other side of Lexa as Bellamy continues to give them light. Very slowly, Lincoln moves his hands underneath Lexa's knees and waist. How gentle he is, Clarke thinks. So strong and yet so gentle. Lincoln continues to move his arms under Lexa and slowly starts to lift what's left of her wasted body. Clarke observes him for a moment in a state of awe as this tiny broken body is lifted into the air. And looking at Lexa as she's moved off the floor, Clarke is overwhelmed with the all love she feels for her. She wishes she could just take Lexa into her arms and kiss away all the injuries, all the hurt.

Then all of a sudden, while still staring at this grounder girl she loves so much, she realizes that in lifting her, Lincoln has moved Lexa onto her back. The commander is now facing upwards and the linked chain around her neck presses dangerously into her throat. Clarke dashes forward. "Wait!" she exclaims. Clarke places a hand on the back of Lexa's neck and slowly lifts it into an almost upright position. Then she puts the fingers of her other hand underneath the chain, lifting it slightly, making sure it no longer presses down on Lexa's throat. With Lincoln's and Clarke's hands now full, Bellamy steps forward and gently puts the part of the linked chain that is still attached to Lexa's wrists onto her belly. Then he takes the chain attached to Lexa's feet in one hand, lifting it up to reduce the pressure. With the other hand he points the flashlight and starts guiding the team out of the cave.

And thus, very slowly and very carefully, taking tiny steps, the three make their way out of the cave. Bellamy is the first to emerge into the open air and Octavia and Miller, who've been guarding the cave entrance, walk up to him to hear the latest news of the situation in the cave. But then suddenly Lincoln also emerges into the daylight with Lexa in his arms and the sight of the commander so badly battered and still in chains makes both Miller and Octavia stop dead in their tracks. Miller gasps audibly, and Clarke can see Octavia clenching her jaw.

"Is she …?" Octavia starts.

"No, no, she's still alive," Clarke quickly tell her.

Clarke glances down at Lexa as she continues to lift her head carefully. In the light of day, Lexa appears even more gaunt than she had in the cave. The dried blood on her face makes her look paler than ever. And she seems so tiny in Lincoln's big arms, Clarke can't help but think. So tiny and so young. Her calm composure, steely stare, and position of power had often added years to her appearance. With all of that gone, she simply looks like the young girl she is but never really got to be.

Slowly the five members of Clarke's team walk to the rover. Octavia and Miller keep their eyes on the surrounding woods, their weapons at the ready, looking for any signs of Azgeda enemies approaching.. It is still light out and it makes Clarke happy that Lexa, for at least a few moments, will feel the warm sun on her body. After all those days in that cave, here she is with the sun on her face, breathing in fresh air, no longer a prisoner.

When they reach the rover, Miller opens the back door and Octavia quickly crawls inside. She grabs hold of two blankets, folding one into a pillow, placing it against the back of the driver's seat, and laying out the other on the floor. Then she quickly gets out again, allowing Clarke to back into the rover, guiding Lexa's head. Lincoln follows soon after, still holding the commander in his arms, and places her slowly onto the floor of the rover. Clarke gently moves Lexa's head onto the make-shift pillow, and together, Clarke and Lincoln move Lexa back into a fetal position, this time on her other side. Then Clarke slowly removes her fingers from underneath the chain around Lexa's neck and puts the chain down next to Lexa's body. Bellamy does the same with the chain attached to Lexa's ankles. Lincoln then crawls out of the back of the rover and makes his way to the front.

Clarke picks up one side of the blanket on which Lexa's is lying and carefully places it on top of her. Then she does the same with the other side. When Lexa's completely wrapped up, Clarke very gently moves her further back against side of the rover to allow herself a bit more space to sit. Clarke knows she'll be uncomfortable, but she can't bear to sit on one of the seats, looking down at Lexa, unable to protect her if there are sharp bends or bumps in the road. Bellamy gets into the driver's seat with Lincoln beside him and Miller and Octavia quickly climb into the back, sitting down on the benches near the back door, being very careful not to step on the commander's legs. And then, with a "Ready?" from Bellamy, the rover is off.


	3. Chapter 3

For the first few minutes, no one speaks. Octavia and Miller keep their eyes firmly on the woods outside the rover, not once glancing down at the grounders' commander wrapped up in a blanket on the rover's floor. Clarke knows it's out of respect for Lexa that they keep themselves from gaping, and she appreciates them all the more for it. But Octavia and Miller also need to keep their eyes on the woods. Sooner or later news of Lexa's rescue will reach Kelan, and his horsemen are fast and know these woods well. If Kelan's men were to attack, they need to be ready.

Clarke has calculated in her head that it will take them approximately seven hours to reach Arkadia. All she can do now is make sure Lexa is still alive by the end of it. After that she can hand her over to her mother. Her mother will know what to do. If anyone will be able to make her better, it's Abby. Clarke is about to ask Bellamy to let her know when there are any bumps in the road, when she hears him say, "Clarke, big hole in the road coming up."

"Thanks," she says and carefully places her left hand behind Lexa's head while moving her right hand between the top of Lexa's head and the driver's seat.

Bellamy slows down the rover as much as he can, and still, as the rover's front wheels move into a ditch, Clarke feels Lexa slide forward forcefully. She moves straight up to Clarke's hand, crashing Clarke's knuckles into the back of the seat. Ouch, Clarke thinks, that actually hurts. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters now but keeping Lexa alive, getting her to Arkadia without further injuries. Clarke looks at Lexa's face. It's completely still, oblivious to any hurt, any bumps in the road. When the front wheels move out of the ditch, Lexa slides down again, freeing up Clarke's hand.

"Sorry," Clarke hears Bellamy say.

"It's all good," Clarke responds.

After the back wheels have moved through the ditch as well, Clarke slowly removes her hands. She briefly puts one hand on Lexa's forehead to get a sense of her temperature. Still so cold. Clarke unfolds the blanket and wraps it around Lexa's body again, even more tightly this time. For a second she considers rubbing Lexa's body to warm her up more quickly. But looking at the bruises and dried blood on Lexa's face, her protruding cheekbones, Clarke realizes she has no idea what kind of internal injuries Lexa has sustained. Clarke can't risk exacerbating any internal damage. She'll just have to hope the blanket will do its work.

A little while later, Bellamy's voice snaps her out of her own thoughts.

"Clarke, just making sure. We're taking her to Polis, right?" she hears him say.

Clarke looks up, her face one of startled apprehension. "What? No! Bel, we're taking her to my mother. We're taking her to Arkadia," Clarke says with as much insistence as she can muster.

For a moment no one speaks.

Then Bellamy tries again, calmly, "Clarke, she belongs to her people. We don't know what Pike will do. They'll look after her in Polis."

Clarke looks down at Lexa and then, with her voice all of a sudden faltering, she pleads, "Bellamy, their healers, they don't have the tools, the medicine. I don't know whether they'll be able to …."

Feeling herself choke up, Clarke stops mid-sentence. Then she forces herself to go on. "At least with my mother she'll have a chance."

As she waits for Bellamy's response, she sees him glance at Lincoln for a moment. Lincoln nods his head. Then Clarke hears Bellamy say, "Alright. Alright. We'll take her to Arkadia."

"Thank you," she says as she exhales deeply.

The next few hours are uneventful. Octavia and Miller continue to scan the woods for any sign of life. Whenever there's a bump in the road, Bellamy calls out "Bump!" and Clarke protects Lexa's head until they're on smoother ground again. Apart from the occasional warning about irregularities in the road, no one talks, everyone seemingly lost in their own thoughts. After a while, in the quiet of the rover, with the rhythmic humming of the engine, her eyes fixed on Lexa, Clarke starts to feel as if nothing and no one exists in the world but she and Lexa, as if everything and everyone has receded from around them.

And Clarke can't take her eyes off the commander. They actually found her. She's alive, and she's here with her. And looking at Lexa's bruised and bloody face, her emaciated body wrapped up in the blanket, Clarke so desperately wants to touch her, to bring comfort to her, to feel she's really there. But craving that physical contact also makes Clarke all of a sudden acutely aware of how careful Lexa had always been to not enter Clarke's personal space and how rare touches between them had actually been. Touching Lexa is not something she's used to. And Clarke tries to remember ever seeing anyone else touch Lexa, anyone ever giving her a hug or even placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. And she can't. She can't remember anyone ever providing Lexa with physical comfort. Not when she had to go fight Roan, not even after she had to plunge her sword into Gustus' heart. Even with her own nightbloods, Clarke can't remember ever witnessing any hugs or pats on the back.

And Clarke wonders what it was like for Lexa when she was younger, when she herself was a nightblood. Had anyone ever hugged her then? Had it been something she had craved? Or had it simply been another thing she had accepted without question? And looking down at the commander, so unused to bodily contact that isn't of a violent kind, Clarke can't help but feel that touching her now might somehow be an invasion of her personal space, an overstepping of a boundary, a sacred boundary that has existed as an aura around the commander for so long. And for a moment Clarke hesitates. But then the memories also come back of how Lexa had responded when Clarke had kissed her. How much she seemed to have longed for Clarke's touch. How hungry she'd been in their love-making. And Clarke slowly extends her hand and, after a moment's hesitation, places it softly on Lexa's cold cheek. She slowly moves the back of her fingers up and down, stroking Lexa's blood-stained cheek. And Clarke's amazed by how soft and supple Lexa's skin still feels.

And for the next few hours, Clarke allows herself to gently stroke Lexa's cheek, her hair, her wrapped-up body, as they continue to make steady progress towards Arkadia. Every now and then she places two fingers on Lexa's neck, always searching for that pulse. And every time Clarke feels it, relief washes over her. And so they keep driving as the sun starts to set and darkness slowly creeps into the rover. Once all the light is gone, and the people in the rover have been transformed into amorphous black shapes, Clarke realizes how uncomfortable she is. She's crouched down next to Lexa with her body in an awkward twist. Her legs started cramping up a while ago and her lower back is now also starting to protest. Clarke looks down at the black shape beside her. Then she looks up at the seat above her and takes a moment to consider her options. Looking down again, Clarke slowly stretches out her legs, lowering herself down until she's face to face with Lexa. Clarke feels her heart flutter. Although the darkness has reduced Lexa to an indistinguishable shape, Clarke's entire being seems to know it's her. And Clarke takes a deep breath and allows her body to relax.

A few minutes later, Clarke hears Bellamy say, "Clarke, another ditch." She moves up her right hand and puts it between Lexa's head and the driver's seat. Leaving it there, she places her own head on her upper arm, using her arm as a pillow. And for the next several hours Clarke remains in this position, forcing herself to stay awake, her hand protecting Lexa's head, her body on the hard floor of the rover. And despite the discomfort and the pins and needles that soon take possession of her arm, Clarke feels oddly content. And as she looks at the dark shape in front of her once more, Clarke places her free arm gently on the blanket covering Lexa's body and for a moment allows herself to close her eyes.

But barely has she closed her eyes or Clarke feels the rover coming to a halt. She jerks up, taking her hand away from behind the top of Lexa's head, pushing herself into an upright position.

"What's going on?" she asks to no one in particular, her voice betraying her concern.

"We're here," Bellamy responds, and when Clarke looks through the front window she realizes they're outside the gates of Arkadia.

The watch towers and several flashlights pointed in their direction cast a muted light into the rover. Clarke quickly glances down at Lexa. She looks exactly the same as she had been before the sun set. Clarke checks her pulse. Still there. Two guardsmen open the gate and Bellamy drives the rover into Arkadia, parking the vehicle as close to the main building as possible. Octavia opens the back door and she and Miller climb out. Then Lincoln appears in the door opening. Clarke moves to the back of the rover as far as she can to allow Lincoln to crawl in next to her. He moves his hands underneath the commander's wrapped-up body and slowly starts to lift her, moving her into an upright position again, as Clarke picks up Lexa's head. All the chains are wrapped up in the blanket together with Lexa's body and placing two fingers behind the chain around Lexa's neck, Clarke realizes there's no longer any danger of it suffocating her. So Clarke uses the hand that's not holding up Lexa's head to push herself out of the rover.

Soon she and Lincoln are standing in the cold night air holding Lexa tightly. Clarke looks around. Few people are out and about. At this time of night, most people are probably already asleep. Clarke sees Octavia looking around, trying to find a way to make herself useful. She turns to Clarke and says, "I'll go make sure your mother's awake." Clarke nods. Walking a bit more quickly now than they'd been able to in the cave, Clarke and Lincoln make their way inside, leaving Miller and Bellamy behind. When they reach the medical ward, they're met by two nurses on night duty, a man and a woman. Clarke recognizes their faces, has seen them before, but is unsure of their names. They guide Clarke and Lincoln to the main table in the middle of the ward as the man tells them, "You can put her down here."

Very carefully Lincoln places the commander onto the table and after he's done, he looks at Clarke, trying to gauge whether he's still needed.

"Thank you," Clarke says, hoping her voice conveys how grateful she truly is. "Why don't you get some sleep," she adds. "I'll let you know as soon as we get a diagnosis."

Lincoln nods and leaves the ward.

Barely has Lincoln left medical or Abby appears. "Clarke!" she exclaims as she quickly walks over to where her daughter is standing. "You're back!"

It is only then that Abby looks down at her new patient. Her startled expressions betrays her surprise.

"You found her?" she asks.

Clarke nods.

"What kind of injuries does she have?" her mother inquires.

Clarke swallows hard. "Mom, we found her in a cave chained to a wall. They tortured her. I thought she was dead."

Clarke feels the tears burn in her eyes. Resisting them, she continues, "I don't know about internal injuries. But they've burned her ankles and wrists and the chains have cut into her skin and some of her fingers seem broken, I'm pretty sure they've flogged her back with something sharp, and her skin's infected in so many places."

Abby looks at the female nurse and says, "Connie, get her hooked up to an IV drip and make sure she's put on antibiotics."

Connie nods and walks away.

Abby bends down and checks Lexa's eyes. Putting two fingers on her carotid artery, she also checks her pulse. Clarke watches her mother's face intently, trying to read in her mother's micro-expressions whether she ought to be more worried than she already is. But Abby's face gives away little. Then Abby pulls her stethoscope from around her neck. She gestures to the male nurse to remove the blanket still covering Lexa so she can listen to her heart and lungs. The male nurse pulls back one part of the blanket, then the other, and when Lexa's body appears, Clarke can tells her mother's shocked. Her mother, who's seen so many injuries in her career, so much death and destruction, is clearly taken aback when she sees the chains, the emaciated body, the burns and infected skin. Then Clarke suddenly feels her mother's eyes on her and hears her say, with so much compassion in her voice, "Oh Clarke".

Her mother's tone catches Clarke off guard. Clarke hasn't told her mother anything about what happened between her and the commander while they were in Polis, how Clarke has come to feel about her. She hadn't felt like telling her. She hadn't felt like telling anyone. It had nevertheless been a relief when she realized during their long rescue mission that her friends had soon enough figured it out on their own. They had understood what Lexa meant to her without Clarke needing to explain. But her mother hadn't been there, hadn't seen the desperation on Clarke's face when yet another day passed without any sign of the commander. But whatever her mother knows or thinks she knows, the warmth and concern in her voice leave Clarke with no doubt that her mother understands that Clarke cares for Lexa, not just as someone who's strategically important to Skaikru, but as someone who's personally important to Clarke. And looking her mother in the eye, Clarke begs her, "Please mom, you've to get those chains off her."

Abby puts a hand on Clarke's arm and nods warmly. "We will, honey, we will."

Seeing the long chain around Lexa's neck slowly starting to slide off Lexa's chest, Abby quickly grabs hold of it. She gently puts the long chain next to the commander's head and moves her fingers between the chain and Lexa's throat, just as Clarke had done earlier. And seeing her mother do this, seeing her respond in the way she had herself, somehow reassures Clarke. She was right to bring Lexa here. Her mother will know what to do. Clarke then hears Abby tell the male nurse to get a bolt cutter and some small metal cutting shears so they can cut the plates around the commander's ankles and wrists and the linked chain around her neck. When she sees the nurse hesitate, Abby adds, "Owen, just go to Raven. She'll know which ones to use."

Owen nods and leaves the ward.

Having sent both her nurses on their respective errands, Abby takes a moment to listen to Lexa's heart and lungs.

When she's done, Clarke asks anxiously, "And?"

Abby gives her a reassuring smile. "Her heart beat is weak but regular and her lungs sound clear. I'll check her for internal injuries more thoroughly once we've got these chains off her. But I'd say so far so good."

Clarke nods, feeling more hopeful than she has in a while.

Soon both Connie and Owen return. Connie looks down at Lexa's hands and then glances up at Abby. "Let's put the IV in her arm," Abby tells her.

While Connie puts the long needle into hollow of Lexa's left arm, Owen, very carefully and with Abby's help, cuts the linked chain around Lexa's neck. Once they've cut it, it slides off the table onto the floor, creating an awful din. Clarke sees a few patients in the corner of the ward raise their heads and glance over. Having successfully removed the chain around the commander's neck, Abby and Owen move on to Lexa's feet while Connie puts tape over the needle in Lexa's arm to secure it. In order to cut to metal plates, Raven has provided Owen with a tiny pair of sharp tin snips. Very carefully, Owen starts to cut through the first metal band. When he's managed to fully cut through it, he slowly removes the band from around Lexa's ankle. When Clarke sees the skin where the metal band had been, she takes a step back, grimacing at the sight of the burns, the bruises, and the infections. She feels nauseous and angry all over again.

Then she hears her mother say, "Clarke, please do me a favor and get some sleep. There's nothing you can do here now."

Clarke shakes her head.

Her mother leaves the table on which Lexa is lying and walks over to her daughter. "Clarke, this will take a while. I'll need to do a full examination. We'll want to wash her and treat those infections. Please get some sleep. I'll wake you as soon as we know what we're dealing with."

Clarke is about to refuse again. Having searched for Lexa for so long, she can't imagine leaving her now. But Abby puts her hands on Clarke's back and slowly pushes her to the door. "You're only in the way here, and you look exhausted. I'll wake you in a few hours."

Feeling too tired all of a sudden to argue with her mother, Clarke allows her mother to guide her to the door. She's about to leave medical when she suddenly catches herself.

"Mom," she says with a great deal of urgency in her voice as she turns around again, "you need to keep her safe in here."

Her mother studies her face for a moment and then asks, "Does Kelan know she's here?"

Clarke shrugs. "I don't know."

For a moment neither of them speaks.

Then Clarke continues, "I don't think Kelan will come for her here, especially if he hasn't found Titus yet. But mom, Pike, please, you mustn't let him do anything stupid."

Abby nods. "We'll keep her safe, Clarke, I promise."

Clarke knows no one can make that promise, especially now, especially when it's Pike they're dealing with, but it still feels good to hear her mother say it. Clarke glances at Lexa one last time. "Okay then," she says. Slowly she walks out of medical and makes her way to her bedroom where, as soon as her head hits the pillow, she falls asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

When Clarke wakes up, her alarm clock tells her it's 6:24 a.m. She jolts upright. Immediately an uncanny feeling comes over her. Something is wrong. Why didn't her mother come? Didn't she promise to wake her as soon as the full examination was over? Once she knew what they were dealing with? Clarke must've slept for at least five hours. No way would it take her mother five hours to take stock of Lexa's injuries. What if Lexa didn't make it? A panic washes over Clarke. She jumps out of her bed and looks down. Somehow she must've managed to take off her clothes the night before and put on a nightshirt. Her clothes lie in a pile on the floor. Clarke quickly takes off her nightshirt, puts her clothes back on and runs out of her tiny bedroom. She keeps running until she reaches medical.

Half expecting to be reassured as soon as she walks into medical, Clarke's panic only rises when she finds the table on which she left Lexa the night before empty. Clarke walks around the ward, her movements awkward and jerky, her eyes frantically scanning the room. She doesn't see Lexa anywhere. Oh my God, she thinks. Did she really not make it? Clarke breaks out into a cold sweat. She should never have left her last night. Why did Clarke so easily let her mother send her to bed? And Clarke thinks about Lexa dying, here, so far away from her people in a place she didn't know. Without Clarke there ….

Suddenly her mother appears.

Clarke cries out, "Mom!" and runs over to her.

Seeing the distress on her daughter's face, Abby reaches out with both her hands.

With tears in her eyes and her voice faltering, Clarke asks, "Mom, did she not … ?"

For a moment Abby doesn't seem to get what Clarke is trying to say, where her distress is coming from. But then, following her daughter's eyes around the room, Abby suddenly understands. "Clarke, no. No! She's alright," she says, putting a hand on Clarke's arm.

Clarke feels a tear fall down her cheek. She doesn't know whether to hug her mother or scold her. She takes a deep breath and then finally says, "Mom, you promised to wake me," but the reproach lacks all intensity.

Her mother looks at her warmly and then tries to explain: "Clarke, you were exhausted and Lexa's still unconscious. You'll have plenty of time to sit with her. You need to look after yourself too."

Clarke gives her mother an annoyed look but decides it's not worth wasting time arguing about this. Instead she asks, "So where is she?"

Abby points at a door at the far end of the ward. Clarke recognizes it as the door to the supply closet. The door's closed and there's a keypad right next to it. "I got Connie and Owen to empty it last night. I told you we'd do everything in our power to keep her safe. We've changed the code and only the nursing staff and I know it."

Abby reaches into her pocket and draws out a small piece of paper with a 6-digit code scribbled on it. She gives it to Clarke.

"Thank you," Clarke says apologetically, all of a sudden feeling bad about having felt so angry and annoyed with her mother.

Abby nods and then adds, "Shall we sit down while I give you the full update? Perhaps grab you some breakfast in the process?"

Clarke shakes her head. "I'm fine."

Clarke can tell her mother wishes to insist she eat something but she can also tell her mother knows this is not a battle she'll win today. Instead she moves Clarke to the side for a bit more privacy and starts laying out the diagnosis.

Lexa is severely malnourished and dehydrated, Abby tells her daughter.

"Do you think they fed her at all?" Clarke asks.

"They must've given her water to drink and perhaps a few morsels here and there but it can't have been much."

Clarke nods to show she understands.

Her mother continues, "You were right about the torture. The four fingers of her left hand are broken, but all in different places, which suggests they were broken one by one. There are cuts and bruises all over her back consistent with repeated flogging by both sharp and blunt objects. The rest of her body seems to have been subject to repeated kicks and beatings. She has three broken ribs, and there are bruises all over body, including her face as you've seen."

Clarke nods again.

"And then there are the injuries on her ankles and wrists. We've treated her burns and the infected skin, and we've put her on antibiotics."

Clarke remains silent for a moment and then asks, "How about internal injuries? Head trauma?"

Her mother turns around and glances at Lexa's door for a moment. Then she says, "Her internal organs seem to still be functioning more or less. We weren't able to discover any severe internal bleeding. We'll have to monitor her progress in the next few days and make sure we didn't miss anything."

Her mother takes a deep breath and then continues, "In terms of brain damage, we won't really know what we're dealing with until she wakes up."

Clarke nods.

"Our main concern now is her temperature."

Clarke looks up. "Her temperature?" she asks.

"A few hours ago Lexa started to develop a fever. Her temperature is slowly starting to go through the roof."

Clarke shakes her head. "I was trying so hard to get her warm yesterday," she muses.

"In many ways the fever is a good sign," her mother tells her. "It shows us her bodying is fighting the infections. But in her condition a fever this high can be very dangerous."

Seeing the worried look on her daughter's face, Abby adds, "But we're hopeful Clarke. She's a fighter."

Clarke nods. A fighter. Yes, Lexa is definitely that.

When her mother is done running her through the list of Lexa's injuries, Clarke glances over at the door of the supply closet and asks, "Can I go see her?"

"Yes, of course," her mother says kindly.

Clarke looks at the scrap of paper and commits the code to memory. Arriving at the door to Lexa's room, Clarke takes a moment to brace herself. Seeing Lexa so hurt and helpless the day before had been hard, and Clarke prepares herself for the impact of being confronted with Lexa's tortured body once more. Clarke enters the numbers on the keypad and slowly opens the door. But rather than seeing Lexa lie in her bed, Clarke sees nothing. She opens the door as far as it will go to allow more light from the ward into the room. The bottom of a bed becomes visible. Clarke puts her hand on the wall next to the door and searches for the light switch. Having found it, she turns on the light. As light floods the room, Clarke breathes a sigh of relief. There she is. And how much better she looks! Clarke feels herself almost choke up again. Gone is all the dirt, all the blood, all the metal that had chained her to that cold wall for so long. She looks so much more like the girl Clarke had left behind in Polis. Her face and arms still bruised and her cheeks so hollow, but otherwise so much more like her old self.

Clarke looks around the room. Lexa's lying on a twin bed in the middle of the former supply closet. The bed's been placed against the back wall. There are approximately three yards on either side of the bed and perhaps four or five yards to the foot of the bed from where Clarke's standing in the door opening. Next to the bed near Lexa's head on the right-hand side is an IV-stand with a drip hanging from it. Against the wall on the other side of the bed is a small bed-side table. In the table are two drawers and on top of it Clarke sees a large pile of bandages, as well as tape and a pair of scissors. Clarke wonders whether the nurses simply forgot to put them away or whether left them there on purpose for when they need to change Lexa's bandages.

Soon, however, Clarke's eyes are drawn back to the figure lying in the bed. Most of Lexa's body has been covered by white sheets and an off-white blanket. Her head's been placed on a soft white pillow, and her arms are lying on top of the covers. Lexa's dirty and wed clothes have clearly been removed and in their stead she is now wearing what seems to be a short-sleeved blue nightgown. All the dried black blood that had covered her arms and face the day before has gone, and her smooth skin has reappeared. In her short sleeves, the tattoo on her right arm has become visible again too. Clarke allows her eyes to linger on that tattoo for a moment as the memories come back of her fingers on Lexa's tattoo after they'd made love. When they'd crawled underneath the sheets, Clarke still hadn't been able to get enough of feeling Lexa's skin against her own. She had let her fingers stroke Lexa's tattooed arm; she had traced her back tattoo with her fingertips. Moving her eyes away from the tattoo, Clarke sees that the IV-needle is still firmly lodged in Lexa's left arm. Both wrists, so distressing to behold the day before, have been amply dressed in white bandages. The four broken fingers on Lexa's left hand have been placed in some kind of intricate contraption that is so clearly Raven's handiwork, Clarke can't help but smile. The brace is clearly meant to keep each finger straight as the bones get a chance to heal. Clarke wonders how long it took Raven to make this thing. Was she up half the night trying to get it just right?

Slowly Clarke enters the room and closes the door behind her. She takes a few steps to the foot of the bed and then walks around it until she's standing in front of the nightstand next to Lexa's bed. For a moment Clarke wonders whether the sound of the door closing and Clarke walking closer to her might wake Lexa, but Lexa's face remains absolutely still. Finding herself staring at Lexa's face again, with its bruises, cracked lip and hollow cheeks, Clarke can't believe how beautiful it still looks. And her mind takes her back to the first time she ever saw that face, that beautiful, precious face. Clarke had walked down to the commander's tent to try to broker a truce between her people and the grounders. She'd been terrified walking up to Lexa who'd been sitting on her throne. How intimidating she had looked in her black face paint, with that fierce and impenetrable look in her eyes. But even then, Clarke remembers, even then she had thought, What a great face. And Clarke had come to love that face. She had loved it covered in war paint ready for battle and she had loved it washed clean at night after a long day in Polis. She had loved it the day before when it was all dirty and bloody, and she loves it now: pale and bruised and skinny but still so beautiful.

Clarke realizes that the nurses have not just cleaned Lexa's face, they have washed her hair too. And Clarke reaches out and strokes her hair, which feels all smooth and soft again. Then she slowly moves her hand down and gently places it on Lexa's forehead, trying to get a sense of her temperature. Instinctively, Clarke pulls back her hand again. Hot. So hot. Clarke had forgotten about the fever her mother had mentioned. Having taken off her hand for a second, she now puts it back on Lexa's forehead. As cold as her forehead had been the day before, as burning hot is it now. And if seeing Lexa all cleaned up had taken some of Clarke's worries away, they all come rushing back now.

While her hand is still on Lexa's forehead, Clarke hears six beeps. The door opens and her mother enters, carrying a chair in front of her. She puts it down next to Clark between the wall and the bed.

"I thought you might like to sit," she says with a hint of a smile.

Clarke nods. Abby turns around and is about to leave when Clarke speaks up: "Mom, one thing."

Her mother stops and looks at her.

"Can we keep the light on in here?" Clarke asks.

"What do you mean?"

"When I came in here, the light was turned off."

"Yes, Lexa is unconscious and …" her mother starts, but Clarke interrupts her.

"I don't want Lexa to be in the dark when she wakes up."

"Clarke, it could very well be several days before she wakes. And when she does wake up she'll be very weak and groggy at first. I promise we'll check on her every few hours."

Clarke shakes her head. That won't do.

"Mom, we need to leave the light on. When she wakes up, she must know immediately she's no longer in the cave."

Finally understanding where her daughter's request is coming from, Abby simply nods. "Alright," she says, "we'll keep the light on."

When her mother has left, Clarke looks around the room at the uniformly gray walls, trying to imagine what the room will look like to Lexa when she does wake up. If she does wake up. Then, feeling her stomach rumble, Clarke realizes she hasn't eaten in a very long time. Casting one last glance at Lexa, still unconscious, still so far away, she leaves the room, making sure the door falls into the lock behind her, and starts walking over to the cafeteria. With Lexa still on her mind, Clarke decides to make a small detour to see Raven. Unsurprisingly Clarke finds her friend in her regular workplace crouched over some machine she's taking apart or putting back together, Clarke can't tell which. Hearing Clarke enter, Raven looks up from her work.

"Clarke. I heard you guys were back," she says, her expression open and friendly.

Clarke nods. "Thank you for what you did," Clarke then says warmly, taking a few steps closer to Raven.

Raven frowns.

"The brace, the thing you built for Lexa's hand," Clarke adds by way of explanation.

"Oh that," Raven shrugs. "That was nothing."

Clarke smiles. Typical Raven.

Clarke thinks for a moment and then asks, "Raven, do you know whether we have any colored chalk in here?"

Raven drops the screwdriver she's holding and gets up, letting her eyes go over all the cupboards and shelves around her. "Let me see," she murmurs. Then, apparently all of a sudden remembering, she dashes over to a high shelf in the far corner and says, "As a matter of fact we do. What colors do you need?"

Clarke ponders Raven's question for a second and then answers, "Brown and green. And yellow. And blue. Lots of blue."


	5. Chapter 5

After breakfast, Clarke runs into Bellamy.

"How is she?" he immediately inquires.

Clarke quickly glances down the corridor in both directions, making sure no one's close enough to hear them. Then she shrugs. "She's as good as we could hope for, I guess," she says. "We'll know more once she wakes up."

"So she hasn't come to yet?"

Clarke shakes her head. "And now she's developed this fever." She pauses for a moment and then adds wistfully, "We'll have to take it one day at a time."

Bellamy looks at her so warmly and with such kindness in his eyes that Clarke, after quickly checking whether the corridor is still empty, adds in a more gentle tone, "Thank you, Bel, for coming with me. For helping me bring her here."

Bellamy studies Clarke's face for a moment and nods solemnly. Then the expression on his face suddenly changes. It acquires an almost pained aspect. He starts to speak, then stops, and then finally says, in a low voice, "Listen, Clarke. I just wanted to say…. I hope you know how sorry I am. About backing Pike, about what happened to Lexa's army …. What we did, what I did, to Lexa's army. I just got so blinded by …." Then Bellamy suddenly stops talking and Clarke can't tell whether it's because he still doesn't fully understand why he so quickly and foolhardily jumped onto Pike's "no grounder can be trusted" bandwagon or whether it's because he can't bring himself to make excuses for himself.

Making use of the change in topic, Clarke asks, "Does he know? Does Pike know she's here?"

Bellamy looks at her apologetically. "Clarke, you know it's impossible to keep that kind of information from him. His guards will have seen us arrive. There's no way he doesn't know."

Clarke nods. "You're right."

Then, after thinking for a moment, she adds, "You know Pike better than most of us. What do you think he'll do?"

Bellamy grimaces as the uncomfortable truth of Clarke's first statement hits home. Then he says, answering Clarke's question, "I don't know, but I doubt he'll make a pact with Kelan. He hates that guy as much as all the other grounders combined. He holds Kelan responsible for so many farm station deaths."

"And Lexa?"

"I don't know, Clarke."

Bellamy takes a few seconds to think, and then says, "If he's smart he won't do anything. If he's smart he'll let your mother treat her until she's well enough to travel. If anything happens to her here the grounders will wipe us out. He must know that. Whether it's Ontari or one of Lexa's nightbloods, it doesn't matter."

Clarke gives Bellamy a look that says, When has Pike ever made smart decisions when it comes to the grounders? When has the threat of complete annihilation ever stopped him? Quickly glancing in both directions of the corridor again, Clarke then says under her breath, "Do you still have an in with Pike's men? Can you find out what Pike's plan is?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Good. So we can rely on you to let us know when we need to start worrying, when we may need to get her out of here?"

For a second, an expression of exasperation and slight annoyance comes over Bellamy's face. And Clarke understands. She understands it's hard when the help that's asked of you is a direct result of terrible decisions you made in the past. But Clarke can't bring herself to really care. All that matters now is keeping Lexa safe. And looking at Bellamy's face, Clarke can tell Bellamy also understands this isn't about him. Forcing himself past his own discomfort, he says with a firm nod of the head, "I'll do what I can."

Clarke thanks him and is about to leave when Bellamy suddenly asks, "Shouldn't we send someone to Polis to let them know the commander is safe?"

Clarke vigorously shakes her head. "As soon as we tell them she's here, her people will come," she insists. "They'll want to see for themselves and install guards to keep her safe. We can't risk it. Pike won't trust them. You know he won't let them in."

"What if we don't tell them she's here?"

Clarke has to work hard not to roll her eyes. "We can't tell them she's alive and then refuse to tell them where she is," she says, not completely able to hide her impatience with Bellamy's questions. "They'll come looking for her and Arkadia will be at the top of their list."

Bellamy nods and looks at the floor for a moment. Then he asks, his tone uncertain all of a sudden, "And if you tried to explain? Tell them we'll take her to Polis as soon as she's strong enough to travel but that it's not safe for them to come here?"

Clarke studies Bellamy's face for a moment. Where does this concern for the grounders all of a sudden come from? What is she missing here? But thinking of Lexa, all alone in her room, Clarke decides to leave trying to understand Bellamy's complicated relationship with the grounders until some other time. Instead she says, "Trust me, Bel. They won't stay away. She's their commander. They won't care how many people die."

Bellamy is quiet for a moment and then says, "Okay then."

Taking her leave of Bellamy, Clarke returns to medical, still carrying the bag of colored chalk in her hand. Catching a glimpse of the door at the end of the ward, Clarke is surprised by her sudden feeling of anticipation, elation even. Arriving at Lexa's room, she quickly types in the code on the keypad and opens the door. The lights are still on. Good. Clarke closes the door behind her, puts down the bag of chalk, and walks around the bed until she's standing near the bedside, looking down at commander. Clarke realizes now how much she had hoped to see some kind of change in Lexa's face, some sign that she might soon wake up. But all is as it was. Lexa still looks like she's sleeping. Her body is completely slack, her face peaceful. Clarke slowly puts her hand on Lexa's forehead again. Still burning hot. Clarke turns around to look at the door, taking her hand off Lexa's forehead. She furrows her brow.

The anticipation and elation she had felt moments earlier have all gone, giving way to a renewed sense of dread. Shouldn't the antibiotics have started working by now? Why haven't the nurses put wet towels on Lexa's forehead? Isn't that what you're supposed to do when someone has a fever? Should she ask a nurse? Should she go find her mother? Clarke takes a deep breath, trying to ward off the oncoming feeling of panic. She looks down at Lexa and reaches out. Very gently she places a hand on Lexa's arm as she closes her eyes. And for a moment all she feels is Lexa's warm, smooth skin against her own. At once Clarke feels herself becoming calmer. She turns around her hand, placing the outside of her fingers on Lexa's arm. Slowly she moves her hand up and down, tracing the line of Lexa's arm with her fingers, her eyes still closed. Clarke takes another deep breath. Yes, perhaps everything will be fine.

After a while, Clarke slowly opens her eyes again. Taking her hand off Lexa's arm, she sits down in the chair her mother had brought her. Clarke's eyes move from the IV next to Lexa's bed to the bandages around her wrists to the collarbones that stick out sharply above the neckline of her nightgown. As her eyes come to rest on Lexa's face, Clarke is struck by the contradiction of peacefulness and violence, of tranquility and destructive frenzy that now characterizes its aspect. Here is a face completely calm and at rest but with such cruelty and agony inscribed in it. There are the big dark bruises on her throat and neck, the bruises on her cheeks and under her eyes that have started to turn a greenish yellow, the various cuts and the chipped bottom lip, the sunken cheeks. And for a moment Clarke feels grateful that Lexa's mind remains elsewhere, that her face shows no awareness of the torture that is so clearly marked on her face and the rest of her body.

Embracing the new sense of calm that has come over her, Clarke slowly gets up and walks over to the wall closest to the foot of the bed. She bends down and picks up the bag of colored chalk. She moves to the middle of the room and turns to face the wall. Slowly moving back until the back of her legs are pressed against Lexa's bed, Clarke takes in the big expanse of gray in front of her. How dreary-looking it is. Even the door towards the right-hand corner does little to break up the wall's dull monotony. Clarke takes a step closer to the wall and puts her fingertips on the surface, trying to get a sense of its texture. The metal has been covered by some plaster-like substance. Yes, Clarke thinks, this will definitely do. She looks down at the pieces of chalk in the brown paper bag and picks up the yellow one. She walks over to the left-hand corner of the large wall and starts drawing the outline of a massive sun. As she starts coloring it in, Clarke realizes the wall's gray surface is making the sun look darker. Once the sun is done, Clarke takes a step back from the wall to look at her work. And at once the memory hits her.

It had been early evening in Polis. It was a couple of days after she and Lexa had returned from their expedition to Arkadia. They had taken the body of the Ice Queen to Clarke's people as a token of peace only to find Lexa's army slaughtered outside of Arkadia. Lexa had been shocked and distraught. But as the day drew on, the commander had decided against the immediate destruction of Arkadia and had given the Sky People a second chance. Explaining her decision to her people had not been easy. Vengeance was all they knew, and they did not understand Lexa's new "blood must not have blood" policy. To them it seemed terribly naïve, evidence of a weak mind even. And Clarke had found Lexa more pensive and withdrawn than usual those days. Her mind often seemed preoccupied with big questions of state. On this particular day Lexa had been in meetings with her ambassadors and advisors, generals and village elders all day, and Clarke had not seen her. Going all day without seeing each other had become rare, and in the early evening Clarke had gone looking for her. Outside Lexa's throne room, Clarke had run into Titus. He had told her Lexa was not to be disturbed.

Clarke had waited for Titus to leave and had then quietly entered the room. But looking around the throne room, she had not seen Lexa anywhere. She had slowly walked up to Lexa's throne, staring at it for a moment, slightly in awe of it. Then she'd taken a few steps towards the balcony and then suddenly she'd seen her. Lexa had been standing in the middle of the balcony behind her throne, her hands folded behind her back, her gaze fixed on some point in the far distance. For a brief second Clarke had considered leaving her be, not disturbing her in one of the few quiet moments the commander got during these difficult and hectic days. But then Lexa had become aware of her presence and had turned around. And in that evening light, Lexa had looked so beautiful. She had given Clarke such a big, loving smile, and Clarke had felt as if all the warmth and light of the setting sun flowed directly into her heart. And Clarke had walked over to her and for quite some time they had simply stood there together, side by side, looking out over Trikru land, not saying anything. And the sunset had been breathtaking.

Looking up at the sun she's drawn, Clarke wonders whether Lexa remembers that evening too, whether she remembers what that sun had looked like. Clarke turns around to glance at Lexa's face. It still looks calm and serene. Clarke puts the yellow chalk back into the bag and takes out the darker of the two blue ones Raven had given her. It will be perfect for her sky just before nightfall. And for the next hour or so Clarke is completely absorbed in her creation. It feels good to have such a large surface to work on and such a good reason to be drawing again. She slowly fills the upper half of the wall with sky and sun and a few birds fluttering around. The lower half she fills with the tops of trees, their branches a dark brown and the foliage luscious and green. In one of the trees she puts a bird nest. Then, smiling to herself, she draws an arrow that has become stuck in the branch of another.

As she's finishing up the arrow's shaft, she all of a sudden hears a movement behind her. In a flash Clarke's turned around. For a few seconds she stares at Lexa's face. Seeing no movement, no change, there, she quickly scans the rest of the room. But the IV, the bedside table, it's all there. Nothing has fallen, nothing seems out of place. Clarke shrugs, wondering briefly whether her mind's started to play tricks on her. But just as she's about to put the piece of chalk back on the wall, she hears another slight noise. And this time, turning around, Clarke realizes that there is something different about Lexa. Clarke takes a step closer to the bed. Looking at Lexa's face intently, Clarke suddenly sees it. There's a slight grimace to her face. Clarke drops the chalk to the floor and walks around the bed to get closer to Lexa. She bends down over her body. "Lexa," she says softly, hoping with all her heart that Lexa will open her eyes, that these noises mean Lexa is slowly coming to. But Lexa's eyes remain firmly closed.

Feeling slightly deflated, Clarke takes a small step back from the bed. But just as she's about to check where she's dropped her piece of chalk, she sees another grimace appear on Lexa's face, bigger this time. And then all of a sudden Lexa's whole body starts to tense up as her breathing becomes more shallow and rapid. Clarke takes a step forward again. She sees Lexa's eyes move behind their lids and then suddenly her head starts to move from left to right and back as the rest of her body makes similar jerky movements. "Lexa," Clarke says again, more insistently this time. But still Lexa's eyes remain closed, the distress written all over her face. As her breathing increasing even more in speed, Clarke looks down at Lexa's body. Feeling utterly helpless to stop Lexa's anguish, Clarke grabs hold of her hand. "Shhhhhh," she whispers soothingly, as she strokes the top of Lexa's hand. "Shhhhhh, you're safe."

And then a remarkable thing happens. As soon as Clarke has grabbed hold of Lexa's hand, she notices Lexa's breathing slowing down again. And before long, Clarke realizes her breaths are becoming deeper and more regular and her body starts to relax again. As Clarke continues to stroke Lexa's hand, the jerky movements of her torso, arms and legs stop and the grimaces disappear from her face. And for the first time in a very long time, Clarke feels as if she's making contact with Lexa. For the first time since she found Lexa in that godawful cave does it feel like Lexa actually senses Clarke's there. And after having felt so hopeless for so long, it is such a wonderful feeling to be able to bring Lexa this tiny bit of comfort, to have Lexa know she's not alone. And looking down at Lexa's face, once again perfectly at ease, Clarke feel so in love. She puts her hand on the side of Lexa's head and bends down, placing a small kiss on Lexa's warm forehead.


	6. Chapter 6

When Clarke returns to Lexa's room after lunch, she finds a nurse there. The nurse is bent over Lexa's bed and is gently shaking the commander's shoulder. It takes Clarke a moment to realize what's going on. Then she sees the same grimace on Lexa's face as before, the same accelerated breathing. The nurse looks over her shoulder to see who's there. Then she returns her attention to Lexa. "Commander," she says as she shakes Lexa's shoulder again. "Commander!"

But rather than calming down, Lexa only seems to become more and more agitated. A look of panic comes over her face, and Clarke can see her legs move beneath the sheets. Soon her whole torso is convulsing. Clarke thinks of the deep cuts on Lexa's back. This isn't good. Lexa's breathing becomes more and more shallow, and all of a sudden Clarke hears a quiet whimper. Clarke can't take it anymore. She jumps forward and grabs hold of Lexa's hand. "Shhhhhhh," she says as starts stroking it. "You're okay. You're okay." The nurse, with her hand still on Lexa's shoulder, gives Clarke a quizzical look.

But as the nurse stares at Clarke, she also seems to notice a change in Lexa's breathing. With a frown she looks down at Lexa once more. And together Clarke and the nurse watch as Lexa's breathing slows returns to normal, as the writhing of her body and the grimaces on her face slowly disappear. When a restful calm has returned to Lexa's face, the nurse looks at Clarke with an expression that says, What just happened here? But Clarke simply continues to stroke Lexa's hand, paying no heed to the nurse's questioning eyes. Realizing the nightmare has passed, the nurse steps away from the bed and quietly leaves the room.

Clarke stays with Lexa another couple of minutes and then leaves to look for her mother. Clarke finds Abby rummaging through some boxes stacked against one of the walls in medical. So that's where the supplies went, Clarke thinks. When her mother sees Clarke approach, she gets up and gives her daughter a warm smile. "Clarke. How are you doing?"

"Me? Oh, I'm fine," Clarke says, slightly thrown off by being asked about herself. "Mom, can I ask you something?" she then asks.

"Of course."

"Lexa, she's been having these nightmares and …. I don't understand. If she's having nightmares doesn't that mean that she's sleeping and if she's sleeping, why doesn't she wake up?"

Her mother looks at her kindly. "Clarke, unfortunately people don't only have nightmares when they're sleeping. People in comas have them, and it's not out of the ordinary for Lexa to have them too, especially considering what she's been through."

Seeing the pained and deflated expression on her daughter's face, Abby adds, "But Clarke, we're giving her lots of fluids and nutrients, we're battling the fever and infections with antibiotics, we're treating her wounds. And even if it may not seem like it to you, we're actually pleased with how her body is responding. She's doing okay."

Clarke studies her mother's face for a moment to figure out whether her mother means what she says or whether she's just trying to reassure her. But her face looks earnest, and Clarke decides to take her on her word. She nods. "Okay. Thanks, mom."

Clarke returns to Lexa's room and keeps her company for the next hour, working on her mural while keeping a constant eye on the commander. To Clarke's relief, the nightmares stay away and after a while Clarke starts to enjoy the work again, the peace and quiet, the time to simply draw, using her mind for something else than worrying about Lexa. And after an hour of drawing leaves and branches, Clarke quietly leaves the room to find Lincoln.

She finds him outside, where the day is gloomy and a light drizzle falls from the skies. Lincoln is taking care of his horse, and when he sees Clarke approach, he turns to face her, straightening his back.

"Lincoln," Clarke says at once, "I need a favor."

Lincoln simply nods and waits for Clarke to continue.

"We can't tell your people Lexa is here," Clarke starts. "If they come, with Pike still in charge, they won't be let in and they won't stay outside, and …," but looking at Lincoln's face, Clarke sees he already gets it. Of course he does.

"Thanks," she says warmly.

Lincoln nods kindly and then asks, "How is she?"

Clarke looks up at the sky for a second and then says, "She hasn't come to yet, but my mother thinks she's making good progress."

"Good," Lincoln says, giving Clarke a warm look of encouragement.

"I'll see you, yeah?" she says, leaving Lincoln to attend to his horse.

Finding the drizzle on her face surprisingly refreshing, Clarke decides to take a short walk around the compound. It feels good to stretch her legs and breathe in the cold air. She raises up her face to the sky and lets the light rain fall onto her face. But soon the drizzle turns into a heavy shower, and by the time Clarke has hurried back inside, she is soaked. She quickly goes to her bedroom in Section D to change out of her wet clothes.

With a set of dry clothes on and feeling rather reinvigorated after her short walk in the rain, Clarke makes her way back to medical. She types in the code and walks into Lexa's room. She takes a moment to take in the by now familiar sight of the commander in bed, covered in white bandages, lying underneath the white sheets and off-white blanket. Clarke walks around the bed and puts her hand on Lexa's forehead. Still hot.

How quickly new circumstances give rise to new patterns, new rituals, Clarke thinks. It seems to her as if it's been days of her walking into Lexa's room, putting her hand on Lexa's forehead, making a mental note that it's still hot. Days of sitting in that chair, watching Lexa sleep. How quickly something that had seemed so extraordinary at first becomes so normal, so routine.

Clarke gets up again and walks over to her drawing on the wall. She looks down to where she knows she put her bag of colored chalk. It's not there. Clarke frowns. She walks around both sides of the bed, then checks the two drawers in the bedside table. Nothing. Casting a quick glance at Lexa, who looks calm and unperturbed, Clarke leaves the room.

She walks around medical until she finds a nurse.

"Excuse me," she says. "I left a brown bag in the commander's room. Do you happen to know where it is?"

The nurse shrugs. Then she nods in the direction of another nurse who's taking a patient's temperature and says, "Ask him. He was the last one to check on her."

Walking over to the other nurse, Clarke asks while the nurse is still bent over his patient, "Excuse me?"

"Yes."

"Could I ask you something?"

"Yes."

Clarke waits for the nurse to look at her and then, with a quick sideway nod of her head, she moves a couple of yards away from the bed. Reluctantly, the nurse follows her.

Speaking more quietly now, Clarke asks, "Did you just check on the commander?"

"I did. Why? Anything wrong?"

"No, not at all. I was just wondering whether you happened to see a brown bag on the floor while you were in there."

"Oh, you mean the brown bag that almost caused me to break my neck?"

"I'm sorry," Clarke says, trying to sound truly apologetic although she suspects the man to be greatly exaggerating. When the nurse doesn't say anything, Clarke raises her eyebrows so as to say, Well, where is it then? When the man still doesn't say anything, Clarke asks, slightly annoyed, "Did you throw it out?"

Realizing Clarke won't leave him alone until he coughs up the bag, the man sighs, takes a few steps to the left, opens a cupboard, and takes out the brown bag. "Don't leave it lying on the floor next time," he says curtly.

Resisting a major eye roll, Clarke takes the bag from the man's hands and walks back to Lexa's room.

As soon as Clarke has opened the door, she can hear the sheets of Lexa's bed rustle. Heavy breathing coming her way. These damned nightmares, Clarke thinks, why can't they leave her alone?! Clarke quickly steps inside and closes the door behind her. And there she is, Lexa, the girl who used to be no more than a title to Clarke, an abstract threat to the survival of her people rather than a real person, writhing and turning in her bed, in a complete panic. Clarke drops the bag of chalk on the bed near Lexa's feet and rushes forward. It is then that she suddenly notices Lexa's right hand. It is lifted off the bed, the fingers searching for something, for someone. And seeing Lexa's hand move in the empty air breaks Clarke's heart and warms it all at once. The commander, no longer some distant concept but someone so human, so vulnerable, is reaching out for her touch. In this moment of distress, it is Clarke who can bring relief.

Clarke quickly grabs hold of the hand that is searching for her. With a lump in her throat she whispers, "I'm here. I'm here. You're okay." Clarke strokes her hand gently. And as Lexa's body starts to calm down again, as their touch puts an end to the horrible images in Lexa's head, Clarke places a hand on the side of Lexa's head and softly strokes her hair. And again she whispers, "You're okay. You're okay," still overcome with emotion.

Taking a step back from the bed, Clarke sits down in the chair. At once she picks up Lexa's hand again. And every time she thinks about putting it back on the bed next to the commander's body, she thinks, Ah, maybe for a little while longer; let's keep those nightmares away for now. And thus for the next few hours, Clarke continues to hold Lexa's hand, stroking it occasionally with her thumb, but mostly just letting it lie gently in her own hand. And with no other means of communication possible for now, Clarke is grateful for this ability to say, I'm here. You're not alone.

And soon this also becomes part of their ritual, their routine: Clarke sitting with Lexa, holding her hand, warding off bad dreams, like a bodyguard keeping away unwanted visitors. So when Clarke returns in the evening, she first checks Lexa's forehead. Then she puts the bag of chalk still lying on the foot of Lexa's bag in the empty bottom drawer of the bedside table and resumes her old position. She sits in her chair, holding Lexa's hand. And at once such a feeling of calm comes over her that Clarke realizes their touch brings her as much comfort as it does Lexa. And thus one hour passes, then another, and just as Clarke is thinking about calling it a night, she suddenly feels Lexa's hand move inside her own. Clarke furrows her brow. So much for her touch being able to fend off evil spirits, she thinks.

But then, looking at Lexa's face, Clarke realizes that something is different. These aren't the same grimaces as before. There's no rapid breathing, no writhing of the body. Clarke jumps up out of her chair. As she stares down at Lexa's face, her heart skips a beat. Lexa is very slowly opening her eyes. Clarke holds her breath. It is as if the whole world has come to a momentary standstill. But Clarke isn't imagining this. With great effort, Lexa opens her eyes half-way. Then she shuts them again only to open them again, more widely this time. Having waited for this moment so desperately, Clarke struggles to believe it's actually happening.

With her eyes fully open now, Lexa stares up at the ceiling. Yet somehow she doesn't really seem present to Clarke. It's as if her mind hasn't quite joined her body yet. Her eyes are glazed over, lacking all focus. Then all of a sudden it's as if her mind rushes in, and at once Lexa's whole body tenses up again. Panic takes possession of her face. Out of what seems to be a deep self-protective instinct, Lexa tries to move onto her side again, back into her fetal position. She draws up her knees underneath the sheets as her breathing becomes increasingly erratic. Worried Lexa will accidentally rip out the IV or somehow injure herself further, Clarke puts her hands on Lexa's shoulder and arm and pushes them down in an attempt to keep her still. But this time her touch only increases the anxiety on Lexa's face. How bad must the beatings, the torture, have been to reduce Lexa to this, Clarke thinks as a cold shudder runs down her spine.

"Lexa," Clarke whispers quietly, trying to not frighten the commander further. "Lexa," she says again, but Lexa doesn't seem to hear her. Her writhing continues as her body prepares itself for the next round of kicks, lashes, or beatings. Speaking more loudly this time, Clarke calls out her name again: "Lexa!"

Slowly Lexa turns her head as her body still tries to curl up. Then her eyes finally meet Clarke's. For a moment the panic lingers in her eyes, but then Clarke can tell Lexa recognizes her. Her beautiful Lexa recognizes her. And at once all the fear and terror flow from Lexa's face to be replaced by the most breathtaking look of love and relief.

"Hey," Clarke says, overcome with emotion, tears in her eyes. Lexa stares at her, still looking exceedingly groggy but also so happy. And when Clarke sees the tiniest of smiles appear at one corner of Lexa's mouth, she knows Lexa heard her. Her heart overflowing with love, Clarke gives Lexa a big smile. As Lexa continues to stare at her, Clarke can tell her body is slowly starting to relax again. Lexa turns back onto her back, carefully stretching out her arms and legs.

With her big smile still plastered onto her face, Clarke gently places a hand on the side of Lexa's face, softly stroking Lexa's cheek with her thumb. And for a moment Lexa closes her eyes, and as she does so, Clarke sees a tear fall down her temple. And Clarke basks in the relief she feels as she watches Lexa, alive and awake, accepting and enjoying her caresses.

But as Lexa opens her eyes again, the expression on the commander's face suddenly changes. The relief disappears as her face tenses up. At first Clarke doesn't understand. Is she in pain? Is she scared? But then she sees Lexa look down at her bandaged wrists, at her broken hand. Lexa swallows hard. For a brief moment she looks at Clarke again, her expression uncertain all of a sudden, and then she averts her eyes. And Clarke knows. This is not pain or fear. This is embarrassment. Lexa has suddenly realized what she must look like to Clarke. She has suddenly realized what she must've looked like to Clarke when Clarke found her in the cave. And knowing Clarke saw her chained to a wall, wet and dirty and helpless, it embarrasses her. Having Clarke see her now, broken and bruised and damaged, it embarrasses her.

Seeing the unease on Lexa's face, Clarke feels a pang in her heart, as if someone has pushed a dagger into it. "Lexa," she says with tears in her eyes, putting as much reassurance and love into her voice as she can. But Lexa continues to stare ahead, avoiding Clarke's gaze. And Clarke feels so helpless, so out of her depth. Lexa slowly closes her eyes again, breathing in deeply. Clarke sees another tear fall down Lexa's temple. Clarke wipes it away. "Lexa, you're okay," Clarke whispers, "you'll be okay." But Lexa's eyes remain closed. Staring at Lexa for a few moments longer and not knowing what to do, Clarke decides to get her mother. Her mother will want to know, and she'll need to run more tests. "I'll be right back," Clarke whispers and quietly leaves the room.


	7. Chapter 7

Abby had emerged from Lexa's room ten minutes after she'd gone in. Waiting for her mother, Clarke had felt restless, anxious. She had nervously paced the ward, much to the male nurse's chagrin. Once her mother had come out, she had immediately walked over to Clarke, trying to reassure her. Yes, Abby had said, the commander was dazed and slightly disoriented, but that was only to be expected. Not only had she just woken up after having been unconscious for days, her fever was still running high and her body was still weak. But she was awake and the first signs were good. They would simply have to give her time and take it slowly. A fuller examination would have to wait until the next day; the commander had hardly been able to keep her eyes open towards the end of Abby's visit. But Abby had been able to ask some preliminary questions to which Lexa had been able to nod 'yes' or shake her head 'no'. As far as Abby could tell there was no reason to worry about significant brain damage or cognitive impairment.

Clarke had tried to be reassured by her mother's words, but a nervous agitation had already taken hold of her mind and now it refused to let go. Her mother had insisted Lexa needed to rest and had urged Clarke to do the same. Clarke had walked back to her bedroom so lost in thought, she had not seen Raven approach down the corridor until the mechanic was standing right in front of her. Almost walking into Raven, Clarke had felt startled and rattled. She had given Raven a reproachful look and then immediately regretted it.

"Sorry," she had said.

"Are you okay?" Raven had asked.

Clarke had nodded and told her that Lexa had woken up.

"But that's a good thing, no?" Raven had asked, clearly not understanding the gloomy look on Clarke's face.

"Yes, yes, definitely," Clarke had said but had realized her words had sounded hollow. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" she had said quickly as she had continued on her way. Raven had given her a puzzled look but had stepped aside to let Clarke pass. Clarke had gone into her bedroom and quickly closed the door behind her.

And now she is lying in her bed, hoping sleep, with its oblivion and restorative power, will soon come. But this night sleep remains elusive as Clarke's mind forces her again and again to contemplate what those twelve days in the cave were actually like for Lexa. Having seen Lexa chained to the wall, having watched her plagued by nightmares, Clarke had on some level understood that the ordeal must have been excruciating. But it wasn't until this evening, as Lexa averted her eyes, that it really hit Clarke. This wasn't something that had happened and was then over. This wasn't injuring your shoulder trying to escape Pauna. This wasn't bruising your lip and cheek and cutting your hand fighting Roan. Lexa had lived this for twelve days. Every day Clarke and her team had been looking for her, Lexa had been on that floor. Every time Clarke had watched the sun come up, Lexa had been lying in the darkness of the cave, probably not knowing what day it was or that a new day had just arrived. And the torture will have been relentless. Every minute spent either living through the beatings, the floggings, or preparing for the next onslaught. Twelve days. And for the first time, Clarke realizes it must've felt like a lifetime to Lexa. Not knowing whether anyone was going to find her, not knowing whether she'd survive. And every day more waiting, every day more torture.

And lying in her tiny bedroom, in the early hours of the morning, with the image of Lexa turning her eyes away from her burned into her mind, Clarke is hit by the enormity of what Lexa had to endure. She feels nauseous, and angry, and worried all over again. And Clarke can't help but wonder what those nightmares had consisted of, what horrible memories had come to plague her in her dreams.

Knowing Lexa, Clarke can't imagine it was the fear of death itself. Clarke had never known anyone who lived with their own mortality, the inevitability of their own death, as easily and as matter-of-factly as Lexa had. Lexa seemed to have accepted from a young age that being a nightblood meant she would not live to be an old woman. She had, in fact, so often talked about her own demise that Clarke had found herself making jokes about it. And Lexa had accepted Clarke's teasing with good humour. No, it wouldn't have been the fear of death itself.

And Clarke thinks of the torture. As a nightblood and as a warrior, Lexa had seemed so used to physical pain. Clarke thinks back on her own fights with Anya. Yes, Lexa will have learned to take a beating and nevertheless push through from a young age. But of course this was different. This wasn't physical pain that resulted from fighting an enemy or protecting your people or even honing your skills. This was physical pain inflicted with the sole purpose of breaking the mind. This was physical pain designed to wrestle her most safely guarded secret from her. And twelve days of that?

Clarke wonders where her mind would've gone. Would Lexa have thought of her? Would she have worried about her people? But of course she would have. Of course she would've thought of Clarke and of course she would've worried about her people. And Clarke knows that the threat of Ontari and Kelan taking over the coalition would've weighed heavily on her. Everything Lexa did was for her people. Part of that was duty. It was the duty that had been instilled in her from a young age. This was the duty of the head that she had talked about frequently. But more and more Clarke had come to realize that it wasn't all head. Lexa had cared for her people, had genuinely wanted them to thrive. And lying there in the darkness, wondering what would happen to her people if Kelan were to get his way, it must have been hard.

And so Clarke lies there, staring up at the ceiling as sleep refuses to give her any respite from these dark thoughts. And the hours pass very slowly until finally, with morning already approaching, Clarke falls into a fitful and restless sleep.

Barely two hours later she wakes up in a sweat, her heart racing. Clarke climbs out of bed and takes a shower. Feeling somewhat refreshed and slightly more awake, she heads over to medical. Her mother is tending to a new patient who's cursing under his breath and casting angry glances at his companion who's standing next to the table, looking sheepish and guilty. Abby cuts open the leg of the man's pants to reveal a nasty flesh wound. "Here," she says as she sees Clarke approach, pressing a piece of cloth into the companion's hand. "Put this on the wound and keep pressing it down." The man takes the cloth and stares at it uncomfortably as Abby walks off.

Meeting Clarke a few yards from Lexa's door, Abby says, speaking more quietly, "Clarke, I'm happy you're here. Lexa's fever broke early this morning."

Clarke exhales deeply. Thank God.

"She woke up again a few hours ago and asked for water," Abby continues, the hint of a smile appearing on her face. "She's been able to drink and an hour ago we were even able to give her some liquid food."

Clarke nods. That is good news. "Is she awake?" she asks.

"I doubt it. Eating her small meal really tired her out. But you go check. Make sure you don't overtax her though. She needs her rest."

Clarke nods in agreement and heads over to the supply closet.

Clarke enters Lexa's room as quietly as she can, this time trying hard not to wake her. Not only is she heeding her mother's advice to let Lexa rest, Clarke is also reluctant to drag Lexa back into a world in which her ribs and hand are broken, her wrists and ankles infected, and her mind tormented by memories from the past. Clarke sits down and for the next half an hour, she simply watches the commander sleep. And she continues to look at that face she loves so much, she feels such a sadness come over her.

After half an hour, Clarke looks up at her mural. Perhaps she should try working on it some more to take her mind off things for a bit. But just as Clarke gets up, she notices Lexa's eyes flutter behind their lids. Clark stops in her tracks. She fixes her eyes on Lexa's face, waiting to see whether the commander is really waking up again.

Very slowly Lexa opens her eyes. For the first few seconds she simply looks ahead, trying to find her bearings. Then she slowly turns her head in Clarke's direction. And when she sees Clarke, her eyes open even more widely as a tiny smile appears around her mouth. Such a sad smile, Clarke can't help but think.

Lexa parts her lips and then, with visible effort, whispers, "Clarke." And despite her worries and the feeling of dread that has been hovering over her all morning, Clarke feels her heart grow all warm. She has always loved the way Lexa says her name. Somehow it has always seemed different from the way everyone else says it. And after thinking she might never see Lexa again, it feels so wonderful to hear Lexa say it again. Clarke feels tears burning in her eyes.

"Hi," she responds warmly.

And again there's that tiny smile. So beautiful but so sad.

"How are you feeling?" Clarke asks gently.

Lexa nods. She swallows hard and then says, "Okay."

"Do you need anything?" Clarke asks. "Water?"

Lexa slowly shakes her head.

Not knowing what else to say, Clarke allows herself to simply look at Lexa for a moment, taking in that she's awake, that she's able to talk. She looks decidedly less groggy, less out of it, than she had been the night before. Her eyes are big and bright; they still look tired but are no longer glazed over. It reassures Clarke to see what a difference one night can make.

And as Clarke observes Lexa, the commander stares right back at her. Her eyes are piercing, questioning. How typical, Clarke thinks, that Lexa in this moment is assessing how Clarke she is doing. Rather than worry about herself, she's checking whether Clarke's okay. Apparently having satisfied herself that Clarke for the most part seems to be doing alright, she parts her lips again, and after grimacing slightly, asks in a hoarse voice, "Titus?"

"He's safe," Clarke says. "He fled Polis as soon as he heard you had been taken."

Lexa nods solemnly.

Clarke hesitates for a moment. She doesn't want to upset Lexa, but she needs to know. She needs to be sure. Reluctantly she asks, "Was it Kelan?" There's brief pause. Then Lexa nods. "Yes," she says quietly as she turns her head away again, avoiding Clarke's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Clarke says.

Lexa shakes her head as if to say, This is not your fault. None of this is your fault. Yet she continues to look away. For a few moments she closes her eyes again, a look of exhaustion on her face, reminding Clarke that her energy is still in short supply.

Clarke continues to scrutinize Lexa's face, wondering whether she should leave Lexa for now to allow her to rest. But when Lexa opens her eyes again moments later, she does so with a grimace on her face.

"Lexa," Clarke says, waiting for the commander to turn her head in her direction. After making eye contact, Clarke asks gently, making sure it's clear she really wants to know, "Are you in pain?"

Lexa shakes her head. But again a slight grimace appears on her face. Lexa averts her eyes. Clarke feels the tears burn in her eyes. "Lexa," she says pleadingly, "will you please tell me when you're in pain?"

Lexa continues to stare ahead.

"If you're in pain, my mother can …," but Lexa closes her eyes. Clarke stops talking. And again a feeling of utter helplessness washes over Clarke.

Why won't she admit it if she's in pain? Why won't she let Clarke help her? Clarke remembers putting Lexa's arm in an improvised sling after their encounter with Pauna. Lexa had scolded her for not leaving her behind but had accepted Clarke's ministrations without any hesitation or objection. And then later, when Lexa had come to her room after her fight with Roan, she had even seemed to enjoy Clarke taking care of her, changing her bandage. But clearly things are different now. These injuries are different; what happened to her in the cave is different.

Clarke lets herself sink down into her chair. After a while Lexa opens her eyes again, the brightness gone from her eyes, the exhaustion even more visible. Lexa looks at Clarke apologetically.

Feeling her heart go out to her, Clarke grabs hold of Lexa's hand, placing it between her own. But as she does so she sees Lexa wince. At once Clarke lets go of Lexa's hands, as if she's just burnt her hands. "Sorry," she blurts out, shocked and crushed by Lexa's reaction.

Reading the distress on Clarke's face, Lexa looks away again. Then in such a quiet voice, almost too soft for Clarke to hear, she whispers, "Clarke, you don't have to be here."

Clarke sits up straight. "What do you mean?"

Lexa closes her eyes for a moment. When she opens them again, she fixes them on Clarke and with such vulnerability in her eyes she whispers again, "You don't need to be here."

And Clarke feels as if someone has punched her in the stomach. She looks at Lexa uncertainly as she asks, her voice hardly more than a whisper, "Would you like me to go?"

Lexa turns her head again and closes her eyes. Clarke is starting to feel desperate. She gets up.

"Lexa?" she says quietly. Reluctantly Lexa opens her eyes again and looks at Clarke.

Making sure she's got Lexa's full attention, Clarke says, as if stating an obvious but important truth, "Lexa, you didn't do this."

Lexa swallows hard. "I know," she whispers.

"What then?" Clarke asks gently, bending down over Lexa even more, hoping to show Lexa in the expression on her face that she really does not understand.

A tear appears in the corner of Lexa's eye. She opens her mouth slightly as if to speak but then closes it again, remaining mum.

Clarke watches her for a moment and then finally says very slowly, hoping Lexa can hear the love in her voice, "If you'd rather be alone, I can leave. I will leave you alone. You just let me know." Clarke takes a deep breath and then forces herself to continue. "But I," she says, fighting back the tears, "I really want to be here. I really want to be here with you."

As Clarke finishes speaking, she sees a tear fall down Lexa's temple.

"Do you understand?" Clarke asks gently.

Lexa nods.

"And if I'm not here and you need me, just tell a nurse to go get me, even if it's the middle of the night. Tell them my bedroom is the last one on the right in Section D. They'll know where to find me."

Slowly Lexa nods again. Seeing how exhausted she's looking, Clarke asks quietly, "Shall I leave you for a bit now, so you can get some rest?"

For a moment it seems as if Lexa is about to say something. Then she simply nods her head. But as Lexa's eyes linger on Clarke for a moment, Clarke realizes that despite her fatigue, despite her discomfort, there's still so much love and warmth in those eyes for her, for Clarke. And as she gets up to leave the room, Clarke bends down over Lexa one last time and says tenderly, "You get some rest now. And then after lunch …, after lunch I'll come back?" And very slowly Lexa nods her head and murmurs a quiet "yes". Then she closes her eyes again and by the time Clarke has reached the door, she can tell Lexa's fallen back asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

When Clarke returns to Lexa's room after lunch, she finds the commander lying on her belly, her head turned to the side, her eyes closed. The sheets and blanket have been moved down to just below her waist; her blue nightgown has been pulled up to her neck. The female nurse Clarke had spoken to earlier is bent over Lexa's back and is painstakingly cleaning the infected cuts and scrapes with a cloth, occasionally dipping it into a small bucket of water and soap on the bedside table.

Clarke carefully closes the door behind her and takes a few quiet steps towards the left wall, making sure to stay out of the nurse's way. From the holes in Lexa's shirt and the torn skin she'd seen underneath, Clarke had expected the injuries to look bad. But this is beyond what she could have imagined. Across the whole of Lexa's back, but petering out towards the top and bottom, are long horizontal cuts and scrapes. It is almost, Clarke thinks for a second, as if someone had tried to scratch out Lexa's back tattoo by the most violent means possible. Several of the deeper cuts have been stitched up. In other places, the cuts are so close together that stitching them up no longer seems to have been possible. Various swaths of tissue are clearly infected, and it is this tissue the nurse is wiping clean with great care.

Clarke finds it a difficult sight to behold. The violence on display here, the reminder of what people will do to each other, the damage done to this beautiful body, for a moment it makes Clarke feel sick to her stomach. She turns her head away and winces. She takes a deep breath, but as she does so, she suddenly hear Lexa's voice.

"Please Clarke," the commander whispers pleadingly.

When Clarke turns back her head, she finds Lexa looking at her with such hurt in her eyes, it makes Clarke feel sad and guilty all at once. And Clarke knows Lexa doesn't want her there. She knows that as soon as she saw Lexa lying on that bed with her back exposed, she should've turned around and come back later. But now it's too late.

"Lexa …," she starts, not really knowing what to say. As her mind desperately searches for words that may undo the pain, the embarrassment she caused, Clarke sees Lexa grimace. The nurse has put her piece of cloth on a new cut and is wiping it clean.

"Lexa …," Clarke starts again.

But Lexa looks her in the eye and, after yet another grimace in response to the nurse's ministrations, begs her again: "Please, Clarke."

Clarke can feel the nurse's eyes on her and as she looks up, the nurse says, "Clarke, why don't you give me a moment to clean up these wounds and put some new bandages around the commander's back. If you wait outside I'll let you know as soon as I'm done."

Clarke looks at Lexa. Again Lexa's eyes are pleading with her, Please just go. Don't watch me like this. Clarke gives Lexa one last desperate look. Then she turns around and walks out of the room.

Rather than pace around the medical ward waiting for the nurse to come out, Clarke decides to go outside for some fresh air. While it's no longer raining, the sky is gray and overcast. Clarke is grateful there's no bright suns telling her to cheer up. This weather fits her mood perfectly. Clarke walks up to the fence. She stares off into the distance. What would Kelan be doing right this minute? she wonders. And where would Titus be? Would the Trikru teams still be looking for Lexa, not knowing she had already been found? And Clarke realizes her mind's been so preoccupied with Lexa that she hasn't given herself much time to ponder these questions, to prepare for the future, to think through different scenarios.

Half an hour later Clarke returns to medical. As she walks into the ward, she sees the female nurse who had been tending to Lexa's wounds come out of Lexa's room. Clarke's surprised it took her this long to clean Lexa's back and apply fresh bandages, but she's glad the nurses are looking after Lexa so well. As Clarke approaches Lexa's door, the nurse suddenly puts up a hand and says, "Clarke, do you have a moment?"

"Sure."

The nurse leads Clarke away from the door. Then she says, "Clarke, changing the bandages has really worn the commander out. She's and she's resting right now. Why don't you come back in a little while?"

Clarke swallows hard. She knows the nurse is right. Lexa needs her rest and Clarke's presence could easily disrupt that. But being asked to stay away, to come back later, it nevertheless hurts. Less than one day ago Clarke's touch had been able to rid Lexa's mind of bad dreams. Today her touch had made Lexa wince. Less than one day ago, Clarke's presence had allowed Lexa to sleep peacefully. Today her presence seemed to bring anything but peace. Clarke gives the nurse a deflated nod and walks away.

A few hours later Clarke finds herself back outside Lexa's bedroom. She's surprised by how nervous she feels. Not wanting to barge in, Clarke knocks quietly. She waits for a few seconds but doesn't hear a thing. She knocks again, a bit louder this time. When still no answer comes, she types in the code and opens the door.

Lexa is lying with her eyes closed but doesn't seem to be asleep. As Clarke approaches the bed, she slowly opens her eyes. When she sees Clarke, she gives her a smile. It's small, but Clarke's relieved to see it.

"Hi," Lexa says, a bittersweet tone to her voice.

All of a sudden it's Clarke who doesn't know what to say. She smiles uncertainly and walks around the bed to the chair. Giving Lexa another bashful smile, Clarke sits down.

Seeing Lexa lie on her back again, Clarke can't help but wonder whether it hurts.

"Are you okay like this?" she asks cautiously. Seeing Lexa doesn't understand, she adds, "Lying on your back like this?"

"Yes, it's okay," Lexa says. Seeing that Clarke is reluctant to put any faith in Lexa's reassurances, Lexa adds, "They wrap big bandages all around me, and if I don't move, it's okay."

Clarke nods. That sounds like an honest answer. Clarke's surprised by how happy she feels to get a real answer from Lexa. She gives Lexa a warm smile. "That's good," she says.

Then Lexa turns her eyes to the back wall. "Did you paint that?" she asks.

"It's chalk," Clarke says with a smile, "but yes."

Lexa looks at Clarke with big, soft eyes and Clarke can tell she likes it. But looking at Lexa, Clarke can't tell whether she realizes Clarke did it for her. Feeling self-conscious all of a sudden, she looks at the floor for a second and then, forcing herself to look at Lexa, she says, "I drew it for you. When you were still unconscious."

Lexa looks at the wall again, clearly impressed. "You did?" she says, sounding genuinely surprised and touched.

Clarke shrugs, not wanting to make it bigger than it is. "I just thought you might like to wake up to the trees and the sky rather than that dreary wall."

Lexa nods and gives Clarke another warm smile. But then the sadness returns to her face. And Clarke knows Lexa's realized she drew the sun and the sky and the trees to make the walls of the room look less like the walls of the cave. And Clarke knows Lexa finds it hard to think of Clarke finding her there, seeing her chained to the wall. Clarke tries to give Lexa a comforting smile but realizes it probably looks more sad than reassuring.

Suddenly Lexa asks, "Did you look for a long time?"

Clarke frowns. "Of course I did," she says emphatically. "We left as soon as we heard." But then Clarke realizes Lexa's asking because she has no idea how long they kept her in that cave. So she adds kindly, "Twelve days, Lexa. You were in that cave for twelve days."

Lexa nods.

"Unless they took you somewhere else first?"

Lexa shakes her head.

Clarke waits to see whether Lexa will say or ask anything else. When she remains quiet, Clarke says, "And then we brought you here two days ago. In the Rover."

After a moment of silence, Clarke glances over at the wall. Hoping it'll take Lexa's mind off what happened to her, off her injuries, Clarke says, "When I drew the sun, it reminded me of what the sun looked like that one evening in Polis, maybe a week before I left. Do you remember?"

Lexa looks at her wistfully. Then she says, "When we watched the sunset together?"

Clarke feels as if a current has jolted her heart. She looks at Lexa's hand and so desperately wants to grab it, to feel Lexa's skin again her own, to feel as physically close to her as she does emotionally, but she stops herself at the last moment. Instead she gives Lexa a warm smile and says, "I thought it was beautiful."

Lexa nods. She is quiet for a long while and then says, "It was."

After that Clarke allows the silence to take over the room. Lexa soon closes her eyes again and after a few minutes Clarke can tell she's drifted off. For the first hour or so, her sleep is calm and restful. Clarke feels happy to be able to keep Lexa company without the danger of upsetting her or making her feel embarrassed about what Kelan did to her.

But then suddenly Clarke can see Lexa's eyes move behind their lids again. Her breathing grows more rapid. So much for sleep protecting her against what Kelan did to her. Clarke's uncertain all of a sudden whether it would still be okay for her to grab hold of Lexa's hand. She calls out Lexa's name.

Nothing.

"Lexa!"

With a gasp and a jerk of her head, Lexa opens her eyes. She casts a quick glance at Clarke and then looks down at her hands, which she's lifted up slightly off the bed. She winces. It wasn't just a bad dream.

Lexa closes her eyes again for a few moments and takes a couple of deep breaths, trying to steady herself. When she opens them again and looks at Clarke, Clarke can tell the embarrassment has returned to them. It makes Clarke feel so sad.

Lexa looks at her for a few moments as if to try to gauge what Clarke's thinking, what she's making of all of this. Then Clarke sees her swallowing hard and slowly moving her tongue across her lips.

"Are you thirsty?" Clarke asks.

Lexa nods. "A little."

Clarke looks at the glass of water on the bedside table. Then she looks at Lexa's hands. She starts to feel slightly nervous. Obviously Lexa won't be able to hold the glass with her broken hand, but will the other one be strong enough? Clarke doesn't really know what to do. She gets up and picks up the half empty glass of water. How do the nurses do this?

With a great deal of hesitation in her voice, she asks, "Shall I just hand you the glass?"

"Okay," Lexa says, but Clarke can tell by the look on Lexa's face that she isn't sure about this either.

Very slowly and with great effort, Lexa starts pushing herself up onto her elbows. Clarke wonders about her broken ribs; this can't be comfortable. When Clarke sees Lexa struggle to push herself up, she quickly puts down the glass again and moves one hand against Lexa's back and the other against her upper arm, helping her up. But as soon as she's put her hand on Lexa's back, she sees the commander wince. At once Clarke lets go of her and removes both her hands. "Oh my God," she says. "I'm so sorry."

Lexa lowers her head and back down onto the bed and closes her eyes for a moment, breathing heavily. "It's okay," she says, her eyes still closed. When she opens them again, she looks at Clarke for a moment and then tries again.

When she's successfully pushed herself onto her elbows, Clarke takes the glass from the table again and slowly moves one hand behind the back of Lexa's head to support it. She moves the glass towards Lexa's mouth. The commander opens her mouth slightly, and Clarke tries to pour in the water as slowly as she can. Lexa takes a sip and swallows. She takes a larger sip and swallows again. Clarke smiles. How nice it is to see Lexa drink again. Lexa opens her mouth again and Clarke pours in some more water. This time, however, she's pouring too quickly, and half the water falls down the sides of Lexa's mouth onto her blue nightgown.

Clarke stops pouring at once. "I'm sorry," she says again, putting the glass away. Slowly she lowers Lexa's head back onto the bed. She looks at Lexa's nightgown. The water has left black patches on her shoulder and chest. There's still water on her chin. Clarke moves closer to the bed and wipes it away with her thumb. As she does so, she sees Lexa looking away.

"Lexa …," Clarke starts, hating to see Lexa like this. "I …."

But Lexa interrupts her. "It's okay, Clarke," she whispers, her eyes still averted. "It's just some water." But Clarke can see the tears in her eyes.

Soon after, Lexa closes her eyes again. It's clear she's feeling tired and overwhelmed. Looking at the wet spots on her nightgown, Clarke feels so useless. With tears burning in her eyes, she gets up and, making sure not to disturb Lexa, quietly leaves the room.

After she's pulled the door shut behind her, she lets her body fall back against it. She closes her eyes for a second, trying to pull herself together. Suddenly she hears her mother's voice: "Clarke, what's wrong?"

Her mother is walking towards her at a fast pace looking clearly concerned. Clarke wipes away a tear that has fallen down her cheek. She shrugs. "I don't know," she says. "Lexa, she …," but then she falls quiet again, not knowing how to explain it to her mother.

But her mother gives her an encouraging look, and Clarke forces herself to try. "Mom, I've never seen her like this. She's always been so strong, so resilient…."

"Clarke, what's she's been put through. Even for Lexa that will take some time to come to terms with."

"I know. I know." Clarke takes a deep breath. "I just wish she'd let me help. But I only seem to make her feel embarrassed."

Her mother looks at her warmly.

"Clarke, you'll have to give her time. You'll have to give her time to heal on her own terms, at her own pace."

Clarke nods. Of course her mother is right.

"And have some faith," her mother adds with a warm smile. "The strong and resilient girl is still in there."

Clarke gives her a look that says, I really hope you're right.

Then Abby places a hand on Clarke's arm and says, "Why don't you have an early night? Get some sleep and perhaps everything will already look different in the morning."

Hoping but rather doubting her mother will be right, Clarke nods her head. "Thanks, mom," she says, giving her mother a quick hug. When she lets go, she can tell her mom wasn't expecting a hug and is pleased she got one.

Clarke leaves medical and as she walks to her bedroom, she continues to hear her mother's words in her mind. "Give her time … on her own terms … at her own pace …." How good Lexa had been at that, Clarke thinks. Giving Clarke all the time she needed after their first kiss. Allowing her to deal with Lexa's betrayal at Mount Weather on her own terms. Never expecting or forcing her to forgive and move on. Always allowing Clarke to move at a pace that was comfortable for her. Always the same patience and respect.

And as Clarke walks into her bedroom and takes off her clothes, she also hears her mother's other words. "Have some faith," she had said. Yes, the strong and resilient girl was still in there somewhere. Even this past day Clarke had seen glimpses of her. Clarke puts on her nightgown and crawls into bed. As she turns off the light on her nightstand, she thinks, Yes, have some faith. Clarke closes her eyes and soon falls asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

It's past midnight when Clarke is suddenly woken by a noise. Was that her door opening and closing? Clarke opens her eyes, but her room is pitch dark and she can't see a thing. Clarke has the eerie feeling that something or someone is in her room with her. Feeling slightly panicked, Clarke reaches for the light on her nightstand and turns it on. She gasps.

"Lexa!"

Lexa is standing in the middle of the room, barefoot. Her blue nightgown reaches down to just below her knees and Clarke can see now that the nurses have wrapped her ankles in the same white bandages as her wrists. The commander looks pale and disoriented. Clarke wonders how she managed to make it all the way to Section D. She must be exhausted.

"Lexa, what's wrong?" Clarke asks, the worry evident in her voice.

Lexa looks around uncertainly, not saying a word. For a moment she simply seems to take in Clarke's room, it's tiny size, the twin bed against the left wall, the small desk against the right. Then, wobbling on her feet all of a sudden, she looks down at Clarke. Her eyes have never looked bigger or darker. Clarke scans Lexa's face, trying to figure out what's going on, what she may need. But Lexa just continues to stand there, as if she herself no longer knows exactly why she came, what she's doing there.

And as Clarke watches her, waiting to see what she'll say or do, she realizes Lexa is shivering. She looks so cold and lost. Without giving it a second thought, Clarke folds open the blanket under which she's lying and scoots closer to the wall, moving her head to the far end of her long pillow. Giving Lexa the tiniest of smiles, Clarke tells her, It's alright, come here. Very uncertainly Lexa takes a few steps towards Clarke's bed. She stops for a moment, gazes down, and then very slowly lowers herself down until she's sitting on the side of the bed. Clarke can tell she's in pain. Again Clarke gives her a warm and encouraging look. With her big eyes completely fixed on Clarke's face now, Lexa moves her legs onto the bed and slowly lowers down her torso until she's lying face to face with Clarke, her head softly planted on the other end of Clarke's pillow.

Carefully Clarke puts down the blanket, making sure it fully covers Lexa's body as well as her own. For a few moments Lexa closes her eyes. Clarke can tell she's completely worn out. What on earth was she thinking? Removing the IV from her arm, walking across half the compound? What if she had run into Pike? What if she had collapsed halfway down the corridor? Clarke shudders to think of what might have happened.

Lexa takes several deep breaths and then slowly opens her eyes again. When their eyes meet, Clarke feels her heart skip a beat.

For a long time neither of them speaks. Clarke feels utterly content to simply lie there, taking in Lexa's presence, feeling the warmth of Lexa's body so close to hers. Clarke scans every part of Lexa's face: her perfect nose, her dry, chopped lips, her bruised cheekbones, her smooth forehead, the now empty space between her dark eyebrows. But always, always she finds her gaze going back to those big, sad eyes. Those eyes that had always told Clarke so much more clearly how Lexa was feeling or what she was thinking than words ever could, but that these past few days had suddenly become so difficult to read. She had known Lexa was in pain. She had known Lexa felt embarrassed. But when Clarke had tried to understand what made Lexa feel so embarrassed, how it all made sense in her head, Lexa's eyes had given her nothing. And looking into those beautiful eyes now, Clarke still feels like she doesn't fully understand what's going on behind them. So in a quiet whisper, Clarke asks, "Lexa, are you alright?"

Lexa looks at her intently for a moment and then slowly nods her head.

But as Lexa continues to look at Clarke, a look of such vulnerability comes over her all of a sudden, it is as if all the protective layers, all the armor, is suddenly coming off. It is as if she's allowing Clarke, for the first time since she woke up, to really see her again. And Clarke can't believe it. She looks at Lexa and she's can't believe she's actually there again. She's there in a way, Clarke now realizes, she hadn't been the days before. And Clarke feels so grateful she could cry. She reaches out her hand and places it gently on Lexa's cheek, finally allowing herself the physical contact she had craved but didn't think Lexa had wanted.

And as she moves her thumb across Lexa's cheek, Clarke sees Lexa slowly closing her eyes. A feeling of panic washes over Clarke. Does she still not want this? Was this too soon? But as these worries threaten to overtake her, Clarke suddenly feels Lexa leaning into her touch ever so slightly. For a moment Clarke forgets to breathe. This isn't Lexa closing her eyes because she's embarrassed or because Clarke's caresses are making her uncomfortable. No, it isn't that at all. This isn't discomfort; this is Lexa allowing herself to completely soak up Clarke's touch. This isn't embarrassment; this is Lexa finally accepting the physical comfort Clarke has been so desperate to give. Clarke can hear Lexa's breathing slowing down and soon the most breathtaking and serene expression appears on her face.

And for several minutes Clarke continues to strokes Lexa's cheek, amazed at how soft and smooth Lexa's skin feels underneath her thumb and feeling utterly contented. When after a long while Clarke finally removes her hand, Lexa slowly opens her eyes again. Considering how serene she had looked just moments before, Clarke is surprised by how is pensive and serious her expression has suddenly become. Lexa locks her eyes onto Clarke's, and Clarke can tell Lexa's making sure she's got Clarke's full attention. Then, speaking very slowly and very solemnly, she says, "Thank you for finding me."

Clarke furrows her brow. She didn't expect this at all. She's surprised Lexa would walk all the way to her room to say "thank you" for something that goes without saying.

"Of course," Clarke says emphatically, hoping her tone and these two short words are enough to convey: Of course I looked for you. I would look for you everywhere. I would look for you every time.

But looking at Lexa's face, Clarke isn't sure whether Lexa fully understands the meaning and the depth of her "of course." And needing Lexa to know, Clarke fixes her eyes on Lexa's and adds, speaking slowly but clearly, "Lexa, I love you."

And as soon as she's uttered these words, Clarke sees Lexa's eyes flutter. Lexa seems as taken off guard by Clarke's 'I love you' as Clarke had been by Lexa's 'thank you'. And it breaks Clarke's heart to realize that up to that point Lexa had not allowed herself to trust or believe that Clarke did still, could still, love her after what Kelan had done to her. And Clarke keeps looking Lexa in the eye, so warmly and so lovingly, as if to say, You'd better believe it. I love you. I love you so much.

And then suddenly, before Clarke fully realizes what's happening, Lexa has leaned in and has pressed her lips against Clarke's. Feeling Lexa's lips against her own sends a shiver down Clarke's spine. Clarke closes her eyes and completely loses herself in the moment, in the sensation.

And it is the most wonderful, the most breathtaking feeling, to be kissed by Lexa who's alive and who's so clearly allowing herself to heal now. How Clarke has longed to feel these lips on her own again. And Clarke makes the kiss last, basking in the warmth and comfort it brings. And when their lips finally part, Clarke barely has time to open her eyes before Lexa leans in for yet another kiss.

Clarke slowly puts a hand on the back of Lexa's head and when she feels Lexa tilt her head ever so slightly, she tilts her own head in the opposite direction and opens her mouth. At once she feels Lexa's tongue against her own, warm and powerful. And as their lips and their tongues find each other over and over again, Clarke is surprised by the intensity of Lexa's kisses. The kisses are slow, but deep and passionate. How can there be so much fire in a girl who was at death's doorstep not even three days ago? How can she kiss Clarke with such abandon after barely making it to her bedroom? But then Clarke realizes these _are_ the kisses of a girl who was at death's doorstep not even three days ago. These _are_ the kisses of a girl who's barely strong enough to walk. These are the kisses of a girl who's reclaiming life. These are the kisses of a girl who's reclaiming her place at Clarke's side.

When they finally pull apart, Clarke can tell Lexa is completely spent. Clarke gently strokes the side of her face and gives her a warm smile, so full of love. Lexa closes her eyes again for a moment and then Clarke sees her slowly moving her whole body closer to Clarke's. And Clarke understands at once what she wants, what she needs. She opens her arms and, as Lexa moves her body against Clarke's, Clarke takes her into a tight embrace, careful to avoid the middle of Lexa's back where the cuts and scrapes are the worst.

And Clarke holds her like she's never held anyone before. It's an embrace that says, You're safe, your ordeal is over. It's an embrace that says, I've got you, I'm never letting you go. And Clarke's aware of every part of Lexa's body that touches her own: her chest and her hipbones against her torso, her cheek against Clarke's own, the long fingers of her right hand pressed into her back. And suddenly she hears Lexa breathe in deeply and then, in the faintest of whispers, she hears her say, "I love you too, Clarke."

And hearing Lexa utter these words, Clarke feels her heart overflow with love for her. It is as if a warm current suddenly runs through all the veins of her body. Clarke breathes in Lexa's scent and wraps her into her arms once more, moving one hand to the back of her head. And Clarke wishes they could stay like this forever, that she could hold Lexa like this forever. Here in her bed, where she's safe and happy.

But after several minutes, feeling Lexa still holding onto her tightly, Clarke very slowly lets go. She knows Lexa must be exhausted. She moves her body back slightly to allow herself a better view of Lexa's face. She was right. Lexa looks completely depleted. Clarke can tell she's trying to hide how truly exhausted she is, but she can't fool Clarke. Not anymore. Her brave, resilient girl. Clarke allows herself one last tender kiss, and then, as she strokes Lexa's cheek, she whispers, "How about we let you get some sleep?"

Lexa looks sad and relieved all at once. She nods slowly. Clarke removes her hand from Lexa's face. Lexa gives her one last look full of awe and love and devotion. Then she slowly moves her body to the edge of Clarke's twin bed and Clarke can tell she's gathering all the strength she has left in her worn-out body to push herself up and give Clarke back her bed. Clarke can't help but smile.

"Lexa," she whispers.

Having pushed herself up onto one elbow, Lexa stops and looks down at Clarke.

"If it's not too uncomfortable for you here," Clarke says warmly, "I can take you back first thing tomorrow morning."

Lexa gives her such a loving smile, Clarke feels her heart melt.

Clarke opens up her arms again, and Lexa slowly returns to Clarke's embrace. But holding her now, Clarke can tell Lexa's in pain. Her whole body is tensed up. Clarke moves back slightly so she can look at Lexa's face. Her contorted expression confirms Clarke's worries.

"You okay?" Clarke asks with clear concern.

Lexa nods, still grimacing and breathing heavily.

"Come here," Clarke says.

Clarke turns onto her back and opens her arms, allowing Lexa to put her head on her shoulder and her body against Clarke's. Clarke can feel Lexa nestling into her side as she places her broken hand onto Clarke's belly.

Clarke hears Lexa breathe in deeply a few times as her body slowly starts to relax again.

"Better?" Clarke asks.

Lexa lets out a satisfied sigh and then murmurs a breathy "yes."

"Good," Clarke whispers, a big smile on her face. Slowly she moves a hand to the back of Lexa's head and strokes her hair.

Soon Clarke feels Lexa's whole body starting to grow heavy and slack. And then, within what can't have been more than ten breaths, Clarke can tell the commander is asleep. And Clarke feels so profoundly happy and in love. To lie here, in her bed, with Lexa in her arms, it makes all the worries and fears she had felt the past few days, the past weeks, disappear. To have Lexa feel safe enough to fall asleep in her arm, Clarke can't think of anything better.

Clarke reaches over and turns off the light. And as the hours pass, she simply lies there, listening to Lexa's regular breathing, feeling so blessed and grateful. And then finally, when even for Clarke sleep becomes too difficult to resist, she kisses the top of Lexa's head and allows herself to drift off.


	10. Epilogue

Even before she hears the knock on her door, Abby is woken by hushed voices speaking excitedly outside her bedroom door. Still half asleep, she gets up, puts on a robe, and opens the door. She squints when the light from the corridor floods into her room. It's Connie and Owen, looking agitated.

"What's going on?" Abby asks, still squinting against the light as she ties the sash of her robe around her waist.

Connie and Owen look at each other for a moment, apparently neither particularly keen to break the bad news to the doctor. Then Connie takes a deep breath and says uncomfortably, "Doctor, they've taken her."

"Who?" Abby tries to get her brain going. What are they talking about? Trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep she asks again, "Who have they taken?"

"The commander!"

At once Abbey is wide awake.

"What do you mean she's been taken? Who took her?"

"We don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

Owen and Connie give Abby a helpless look. Clearly they know as little as Abby does.

As the panic kicks in, Abby's mind goes into overdrive. How could Pike so stupid as to take the commander? What did he expect to accomplish? Was he going to trade her for land? Was he going to kill her to show the grounders he isn't afraid of anyone? Or had Pike actually made a deal with Kelan? Was she even still in Arkadia?

Abby takes a deep breath. "What time is it?" she then asks.

"It's 4:30," Connie replies.

"How long has she been gone?"

"We don't know. She was in her room at midnight. When I checked again just now, she was gone."

Abby shakes her head. More than four hours. She could be anywhere by now. She could be halfway to Sector 8. She could be dead.

"Did anyone walk in or out of medical this night you didn't recognize?" she asks.

Owen and Connie shake their heads.

"Anyone you did recognize?"

Again the two shake their heads.

Then Owen says, "But you know what medical is like. If we were checking on patients in a different part of the ward, we may not have seen."

Abby nods. And then suddenly she thinks of Clarke. How on earth is she going to tell her daughter?

"What do you want us to do?" Connie asks.

"I need to talk to my daughter first," Abby says. "Owen, you go ask the guards outside whether they saw anyone enter or leave the camp in the hours after midnight. Connie, you go check her room for any clues."

Owen and Connie nod and rush off.

Abby takes a deep breath. She puts on some slippers and closes the bedroom door behind her. This is going to be tough. Having to wake Clarke to tell her Lexa is gone? Tell her that the girl she loves was kidnapped from her room and that no one knows who took her or where she's gone?

And as she hurries to Clarke's room, Abby suddenly finds herself thinking back to that tiny smile. That tiny smile that had been so unexpected and yet had told her so much.

It had been a week after Clarke's return to Arkadia after her weeks in Polis. It had been a difficult time. The grounders were putting pressure on Lexa to take vengeance on the Sky People, and Pike still had a great deal of support in Arkadia.

That first week Abby had found Clarke more pensive and quiet than usual, withdrawn even. She had often sat by herself, staring off into the distance. At first Abby had thought Clarke's taciturnity was simply a result of her daughter having found herself back in Arkadia, a place she had desperately tried to avoid for so many months. After pulling the lever at Mount Weather, Clarke had refused to set foot in the compound, and now here she was. It couldn't have been easy. And Abby had felt she understood the reasons for Clarke's sullenness and hadn't thought more of it.

But then one night Abby had walked into the bar and had seen her daughter in a corner, deep in thought as usual. And just as Abby was wondering what dark memories were plaguing her this time, she had seen Clarke's lips curl up into a tiny smile. Abby had been so surprised. And the first thought that had entered her mind was, This girl is in love!

And although Abby knew there could be a hundred other reasons for Clarke's smile, that first impression had lingered. And as Abby contemplated who it could be, who could've made Clarke smile like that, her mind had somehow always come back to the commander. Clarke and Lexa. Heda and Wanheda. In so many ways it seemed so unlikely. And yet.

From the moment they had met, they seemed to have had some kind of connection. At first Abby hadn't really understood it. Lexa had seemed so cold to her, so calculating and ruthless. But somehow Clarke had seemed to feel at ease with her, had to come respect and even trust her. And Abby knew the girls had grown close as they planned their war together.

But the more time Clarke spent with Lexa, the more it seemed to Abby that Lexa's callousness was starting to rub off on Clarke. Clarke had made decisions that were so cold-hearted and opportunistic, they had left Abby reeling. This wasn't the Clarke she knew, and Abby had worried that Clarke, in trying to win this war, was losing herself.

And then Lexa's betrayal of the Sky People at Mount Weather happened. Abby wished it could've come as a surprise, but of course it hadn't. To her mind this was exactly who Lexa was. Friendship, loyalty, honor, these were all expendable niceties that were easily discarded when they got in the way of getting what she wanted.

But Abby also knew that for Clarke it would've been different. Clarke had always been loyal to her friends to a fault. Would she have expected this kind of disloyalty from someone she had probably, at that point, considered a friend?

After the betrayal, Clarke had stayed behind and she had killed the people of Mount Weather. She had saved her friends, she had saved Abby. But so many people had died, so many people had died who didn't deserve to die. And after it was all over, Abby had held Clarke, and she had known these deaths would be a very heavy burden for her daughter to bear.

They had all returned to Arkadia, but Clarke had refused to enter the camp. And for a long time no one had known where she was. Then, finally, after months of uncertainty, word had arrived that Clarke was in Polis. The Ice Nation had been hunting her down and Lexa had stepped in and brought her to the capital.

Abby had travelled to Polis with Kane for a summit with the grounders. And that first night, watching Clarke and Lexa in the throne room as the Sky People were initiated into Lexa's coalition, Abby had been surprised by the lack of outward animosity between the two girls. Despite everything that had happened, despite the enormity of the betrayal, these two still seemed to respect each other, still seemed to feel at ease with each other. And Abby understood that whatever bond they had shared, Mount Weather had not been able to completely sever it.

Later that evening, after the Ice Nation killed 49 members of Skaikru, Bellamy had told Clarke she needed to return to Arkadia with them; Lexa had told her she needed to stay in Polis. And Clarke had stayed. She had told Abby she needed to stay to make sure Lexa would protect Skaikru against Azgeda and avenge the attack on Mount Weather as she had promised. And for their people, in the larger scheme of things, it had been the right decision. But Abby had also wondered whether there wasn't more to it than that, whether there wasn't also a more personal reason for Clarke's decision to stay behind.

In the weeks that followed, Abby had found herself surprised by the reports reaching Arkadia detailing Lexa's course of action. The commander had single-handedly killed the Ice Queen, thereby avenging the murder of the 49 members of Skaikru and eliminating the biggest threat to the coalition and their still fragile peace. The commander had refused to destroy Arkadia after Pike and his men had killed the peacekeeping army she had sent to protect them. When Pike had ordered his men to wipe out an entire grounder village, she had still not annihilated them. And Abby came to understand that perhaps Kane was right when he called the commander a visionary who did understand peace.

Pike's actions did make it impossible for Clarke to stay on in Polis and so she had returned to Arkadia. Abby had felt happy to have her daughter home again, but she had also realized it couldn't have been easy for Clarke. Not after what she had to do to save her people in Mount Weather and not with Pike in charge.

But then that tiny smile had happened. And Abby had realized that perhaps Clarke wasn't altogether miserable. And Abby had thought of Lexa. And her mind would go back to Clarke and Lexa standing side by side in the throne room. And somehow it all made sense.

And then news arrived that the commander had been abducted by the Ice Nation. Abby had never seen Clarke so distraught. Clarke had frantically gathered a team and she had left as soon as she could. And then twelve days later, Clarke had stood there again, in medical, looking absolutely exhausted. But she had Lexa with her. She'd actually found her. And from the way Clarke had looked at Lexa, with such love and despair in her eyes, Abby knew her suspicions had been right. Her daughter loved this girl, loved her deeply.

In the subsequent days, as Abby did everything in her power to keep the commander alive and put her on the road to recovery, Clarke had stayed by Lexa's side. Kelan's men had done everything they could to extract the secret of the commander from Lexa without actually killing her. And the effects of their torture were all too visible. Even Abby had been taken aback that first night. She couldn't imagine what Clarke must feel like to see Lexa like that.

And when Clarke had told Abby the previous evening that Lexa seemed embarrassed, reluctant to accept Clarke's help, Abby had understood that Lexa found it difficult to have Clarke see her like that too. And never having had much of a soft spot for the commander, Abby had nevertheless felt a rush of sympathy for her.

And Abby had tried to reassure her daughter, had told her Lexa was strong and resilient. But Abby had also wondered whether Lexa even knew how to be vulnerable anymore. Could she show vulnerability without putting herself and her people in danger? Could she allow others to comfort her without appearing weak, without feeling weak? And Abby had desperately hoped Lexa still could, both for her own sake and Clarke's.

But now of course none of that mattered anymore. There would be no one to comfort Lexa, wherever she was. And Abby would have to tell her daughter she hadn't been able to keep Lexa safe.

Finally arriving at Clarke's bedroom door, Abby takes a deep breath, preparing herself for the task ahead. Slowly she opens the door. Light from the corridor falls onto Clarke's desk, then onto the floor between the bed and the desk. As Abby opens the door further, the edge of the bed becomes visible. Abby frowns. She sees three hands, the top one wrapped in a metal brace. Then two bandaged wrists appear. Abby grabs hold of the doorpost and breathes a sigh of relief.

Opening the door fully now, Abby is met by the most breathtaking and reassuring sight: her daughter and the commander in bed together, both fast asleep. Lexa safe and protected. Abby closes her eyes for a moment and exhales deeply, allowing all the tension that had built up in her body to dissipate.

Opening her eyes again, Abby looks at the girls more closely. They are both facing away from the wall with only a few inches separating their bodies. Clarke's right arm is wrapped loosely around the commander's still emaciated frame.

How right they look together, Abby thinks. And she can't help but feel proud. Proud of her daughter for having allowed herself to open her heart to this girl who clearly loves her dearly after having experienced so much loss and heartbreak. But also proud of Lexa, proud of the stoic commander for having allowed herself to seek out and accept Clarke's comfort.

And as she stands there looking at Lexa, safe in her daughter's arms, Abby suddenly sees the commander stir. And just as Abby wonders whether the light flooding into the room is waking her up, she sees Lexa move her body back ever so slightly, her eyes still closed. Slowly Lexa closes the tiny gap that had still existed between their bodies, pressing her injured back against Clarke's warm torso. And then Abby sees Clarke, without fully waking either, lean gently into Lexa's back. As a soft moan escapes her lips, Clarke wraps her arm more firmly around the commander's body, placing a flat hand on Lexa's lower ribs. And Abby can't help but smile. Her darling daughter, the protector.

And Abby is so moved by the two sleeping figures in front of her that she doesn't notice the footsteps hurrying down the corridor until they've almost reached her. Abby looks up. It's Connie.

"Doctor, you should come," the nurse exclaims. "One of the other patients, he says he…."

But Abby quickly puts an index finger to her lips to tell Connie to be quiet. Connie stops talking at once. She takes a step closer to Abby and peeks into the room. The relief that comes over her face is soon replaced by a look of grave concern.

"Dr. Griffin," she says with more than a hint of exasperation in her voice. "The commander, she can't be here. She needs to be …."

But Abby, looking at Lexa's face, so calm and contented, and at Clarke's arm, wrapped so tightly around the commander's body, doesn't let her finish.

"Connie," she says, speaking slowly, "I think the commander is right where she needs to be."

And with one last glance at the sleeping couple, Abby quietly closes the door.


End file.
